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THE SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN BOY. 



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The SCIENTIFIC 
AMERICAN BOY 

OR 

The Camp at Willow Clump Island 

By 
A. RUSSELL BOND 




NEW YORK 

MUNN & CO., Publishers 
1906 



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COPYRIGHT, 1905, BY 

MUNN & CO., NEW YORK 



PRESS OF 

THE KALKHOFF COMPANY 

NEW YORK 




PREFACE 

|LL boys are nature lovers. Nothing 
appeals to them more than a summer 
vacation in the woods where they can 
escape from the restraints of civilization 
and live a life of freedom. Now, it may appear to be 
a bit of presumption to attempt to advise the boy 
camper how to spend his time. Surely the novelty of 
outdoor life, the fascinating charm of his surroundings, 
will provide him plenty of entertainment. 

But, after all, a camp generally affords but two 
major amusements, hunting and fishing. These have 
been fully covered by a vast number of books. How- 
ever, there is another side of camp life, particularly in 
a boys* camp, which has been very little dealt with, 
namely, the exercise of one's ingenuity in creating 
out of the limited resources at hand such devices and 
articles as will add to one's personal comfort and 
welfare. It is, therefore, the aim of this book to 



8 Preface. 

suggest certain diversions of this character for the boy 
camper which, aside from affording him plenty of 
physical exercise, will also develop his mental faculties, 
and above all stimulate that natural genius which is 
characteristic of every typical American boy. To this 
end the story contains descriptions of a large collection 
of articles which can be made by any boy of average 
intelligence, not only in the camp but at home as 
well. 

The use of a narrative to connect the various inci- 
dents marks a departure in this class of book, and it is 
believed that the matter will thus be made more 
realistic and interesting. In all cases full directions 
are given for making the various articles. While it is 
not presumed that the directions will be slavishly 
followed, for this would defeat the general aim of the 
work, yet all the principal dimensions are given so 
that they can be used, if desired. 

I beg to acknowledge the courtesy of Mr. Daniel C. 
Beard and Mr. Henry D. Cochrane in supplying a 
number of photographs. The directions for making 
the lee boards (page 119) were obtained from data 



Preface. 9 

furnished by the latter. Many of the details recorded 
in the chapter on Tramping Outfits are to be accredited 
to Mr. Edward Thorpe. In the preparation of this 
book I have received valuable assistance from my 
colleague, Mr. A. A. Hopkins. 

A. RUSSELL BOND. 

New York, October, 1905. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

Bill" 17 

The Old Trunk. Christmas Vacation. " Bill's " Skate Sail. Willow 
Clump Island. Organizing the Society. 



CHAPTER II. 

Skate Sails 26 

The Double Swedish Sail. The Single Swedish Sail. The Lanteen 
Sail. The Danish Sail. Bat's Wings. 



CHAPTER III. 
Snow Shoes, Skis and Swamp Shoes 35 

Chair Seat Snow Shoe. Barrel Stave Snow Shoe. Barrel Hoop Snow 
Shoe. The Sioux Snow Shoe. The Iroquois Snow Shoe. The Ainu 
Snow Shoe. The Norwegian Ski. The Swamp Shoe or Swiss Snow 
Shoe. 

CHAPTER IV. 
Tent Making 44 

Farewell Meeting. Word from Uncle Ed. The Canvas Tent. 
Adjustable Ridge Pole. Tie Blocks. The Annex. 



CHAPTER V. 
Preparing for the Expedition 53 

Tent Fly. Provisions and Supplies. Umbrella Rib Crossbow. 
Megaphone. The Scow. 

1 1 



1 2 Contents, 



CHAPTER VI. 

PAGE 

Off to the Island 63 

A Unique Alarm Clock. The Trip to the Island. Preliminary 
Exploration. A Rustic Table. The Small Filter. The Barrel 
Filter. The Kkpalo. 



CHAPTER VII. 
Surveying 73 

The Surveying Instrument. Spirit Levels. The Tripod. Surveyor's 
Chain. Surveyor's Rod. A Simple Method of Surveying. Mapping 
the Island. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Swimming 84 

Swimming on a Plank. Shooting the Rapids. Restoring the 
Drovpned. How to Work over a Patient Alone. 



CHAPTER IX. 
Bridge Building 95 

The Spar Bridge. The Rope Railway. The Suspension Bridge. 
The Pontoon Bridge. The King Rod Truss. Stiffening the Bridge. 
The King Post Bridge. 



CHAPTER X. 
Canvas Canoes 109 

Uncle Ed's Departure. A Visit from Mr. Schreiner. The Sailing 
Canoe. Stretching on the Canvas. The Rudder. The Deep Keel. 
Canoe Sails. Lee Boards. Indian Paddling Canoe. 



Contents. 13 



CHAPTER XL 

PAGE 

House Building 124 

The Grass Hut. The Goblins' Dancing Platform. Dutchy 
Takes a Dare. A Path Up the Fissure. Rope Ladders. The 
Derrick. The Tree House. Sliding Doors. 



CHAPTER XII. 
Trouble with the Tramps 138 

The Scow is Stolen. A Council of War. Vengeance. A Double 
Surprise. Tramp-proof Boat Mooring. 



CHAPTER XIII. 
Wigwagging and Heliographing 144 

Wigwag Signals. The Wigwag Alphabet. Abbreviations. Wig- 
wagging at Night. The Heliograph. The Single Mirror Instrument. 
The Sight Rod. The Screen. Focusing the Instrument. Helio- 
graph Signaling. The International Telegraph Code. The Double 
Mirror Instrument. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Ice Boats, Sledges and Toboggans 158 

Breaking Camp. The Ice Boat. The Sledge. The Toboggan. 
The Rennwolf. Ice Creepers. 



CHAPTER XV. 
The Subterranean Club 171 

A Cave-in. Excavating for the Cave. Covering the Cave. The 
Big Bug Club. Midnight Banquets. The Club Pin. The Combi- 
nation Lock. 



14 Contents. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

PAGE 

Scooters 183 

A Sail in the Scow. Our Craft Strikes the Ice. The Scooter Scow. 
A Sprit Sail. Scooter Sailing. A Meeting of the Society. An 
Interview with Mr. Van Syckel. The Scooter Canoe. 

CHAPTER XVII. 
An Arctic Expedition ■ 193 

Willow Clump Island in Winter. Kindling a Camp Fire. The 
Outdoor Fireplace. A Stone-paved Fireplace. A Cold Night in 
the Hut. Mountain Climbing. A Poor Shelter. A Costly Camp 
Fire. A Friend in Time of Trouble. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
Tramping Outfits 203 

Sleeping Bags. Bill's "Mummy Case." The "A" Tent. A 
Camp Chair. A Camp Bed. The Camp Bed in a Shower. A 
Nightmare. Pack Harness. Riveting. 

CHAPTER XIX. 
The Land Yacht 215 

The Frame of the Yacht. A Simple Turnbuckle. Stepping the 
Mast. Mounting the Frame on Bicycle Wheels. The Tiller. A 
" Leg-of-Mutton " Sail. A Sail Through the Country. 



CHAPTER XX. 
Easter Vacation 224 

Bill's Cave. The Barrel Stave Hammock. The Barrel Armchair. 
The Summer Toboggan. Tailless Kites. A Five-foot Malay Kite, 
An Eight-foot Malay Kite. The Elastic Belly Band. Putting the 
Kites to Work. The Diamond Box Kite. 



Contents. 15 

CHAPTER XXI. 

PAGE 

The Water Wheel 240 

The Water Wheel. Surveying for the Water Wheel. Towers for 
the Water Wheel. The Wheel. The Buckets. The Paddles. 
The Receiving Trough. Setting Up the Towers. Mounting the 
Water Wheel. Cooling the Filter Barrel. The Canvas Bucket. 
Mr. Halliday's Water Wheel. 

CHAPTER XXII. 
The Log Cabin 254 

Foundation of Log Cabin. A Logging Expedition. The Log Raft. 
The Sail-Rigged Raft. Building the Log Cabin. The Roof of 
the Log Cabin. Door and Window Frames. The Fireplace. 
The Proper Way to Build a Stone Wall. The Floor of the Cabin. 
The Door Hinges and Latch. The Window Sash. Bunks. Stopping 
up the Chinks. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 
The Windmill 273 

Digging the Well. The Windmill Tower. The Crank Shaft. The 
Wind Wheel. A Simple Brake. The Pump. Pump Valves. 
Action of the Pump. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 
The Gravity Railroad 283 

The Car. The Flanged Wheels. Car Axles. Mounting the Wheels. 
The Railway Track. The Carpenter's Miter Box. Laying the Track. 
The First Railway Accident. Testing the Track. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

The Cantilever Bridge 292 

Frames for the Cantilever Bridge. Erecting the Towers. Setting up 
the Frames. Binding and Anchoring the Structure. The Center 
Panels of the Bridge. A Serious Interruption. Dispossessed. Fare- 
well to Willow Clump Island. Reddy's Cantilever Bridge. 



THE SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN BOY. 

CHAPTER I. 

" BILL." 

" Bill," he was It, the Scientific American Boy, I mean. 
Of course, we were all American boys and pretty scientific 
chaps too, If I do say it myself, but Bill, well he was the 
whole show. What he didn't know wasn't worth knowing, 
so we all thought, and even to this day I sometimes wonder 
how he managed to contrive and execute so many remarkable 
plans. At the same time he was not a conceited sort of a 
chap and didn't seem to realize that he was head and 
shoulders above the rest of us In ingenuity. But, of course, 
we didn't all have an uncle like Bill did. Bill's Uncle Ed 
was one of those rare men who take a great Interest In boys 
and their affairs, a man who took time to answer every ques- 
tion put to him, explaining everything completely and yet 
so clearly that you caught on at once. Uncle Ed (we all 
called him that) was a civil engineer of very high standing 
in his profession, which had taken him pretty much all over 

17 



i8 



The Scientific American Boy. 



the world, and his naturally Inquisitive nature, coupled with a 
wonderful memory, had made him a veritable walking ency- 
clopedia. With such an uncle it is no wonder that Bill 
knew everything. Of course, there were some things that 
puzzled even Bill. But all such difficulties, after a reasonable 
amount of brain-work had failed to clear them, were sub- 
mitted to Uncle Ed. Uncle Ed was always prompt (that 
was one thing we liked about him), and no matter where he 
was or what he was doing he would drop everything to 
answer a letter from the society. 




Fig. 1. The Old Trunk in the Attic. 



The Old Trunk. 

But hold on, 
I am getting 
ahead of my 
story. I was 
rummaging 
through the 
attic the other 
day, and came across an 
old battered trunk, one 



that I used when I went 
to boarding-school down in south Jersey. That trunk was 
certainly a curiosity shop. It contained a miscellaneous 
assortment of glass tubes, brass rods, coils of wire, tools, fish 
hooks — in fact, it was a typical collection of all those 
" valuables " that a boy is liable to pick up. Down in one 



Bill." 



19 




corner of the trunk was a black walnut box, marked, with 
brass letters, " Property of the S. S. I. E. E. of W. C. I." 
On my key-ring I still carried the key to that box, which had 
not been opened for 
years. I unlocked 
the box and 
brought to light 
the " Records and 
Chronicles of the 
Society for the 
Scientific Investigation, 
Exploration and Ex- 
ploitation of Willow 
Clump Island." For hours I pored over those pages, 
carried back to the good old times we used to have as boys 
along the banks of the Delaware River, until I was brought 
sharply back to the present by the sound of the dinner bell. 
It seemed that the matter contained in those " Chronicles " 
was too good to be kept locked up in an old trunk. Few 
boys' clubs ever had such a president as Bill, or such a won- 
derful bureau of information as Uncle Ed. For the benefit 
of boys and boykind in general, I decided then and there to 
publish, as fully as practicable, a record of what our 
society did. 



Fig. 2. The Black Walnut Box. 



Christmas Vacation. 



This was how the society came to be formed. Bill, whom 
I met at boarding-school, was an orphan, and that's why he 



20 The Scientific Amejican Boy. 

was sent to boarding-school. His uncle had to go down to 
Brazil to lay out a railroad, I believe, and so he packed Bill 
off to our school, which was chosen in preference to some 
others because one of the professors there had been a class- 
mate of Uncle Ed's at college. Bill roomed with me, and 
naturally we became great chums. When Christmas time 
came, of course I invited him to spend the holidays with 
me. My home was situated in the little village of Laming- 
ton, on the Jersey side of the Delaware River. Here we 
arrived late at night on the Saturday before Christmas. A 
cold wind was blowing which gave promise of breaking the 
spell of warm weather we had been having, and of giving 
us a chance to try our skates for the first time. True to our 
expectations, the next day was bitterly cold, and a visit to the 
canal which ran along the river bank, just beyond our back 
fence, showed that quite a thick skim of ice had formed on 
the water. Monday morning, bright and early, found us 
on the smooth, slippery surface of the canal. " Us " here 
includes, in addition to Bill and myself, my two younger 
brothers, Jack and Fred, and also Dutchy Van Syckel 
and Reddy Schreiner, neighbors of ours. It was the custom 
at the first of December every year to drain out most 
of the water in the canal, in order to prevent possible injury 
to the canal banks from the pressure of the Ice. But there 
was always a foot or two of water covering the bottom of 
the canal, and this afforded a fine skating park of ample 
width and unlimited length, while the high canal banks on 
each side protected us from the bitter wind that was blowing. 



" Bill: 



21 



Toward noon, however, the wind shifted and swept at a 
terrific rate down the narrow lane between the canal banks. 
We could scarcely make headway against the blow. It was 
too much for Bill, who wasn't as used to skating as we were. 
He sat down in a sheltered nook and commenced to think. 
When BUI sat down to think it always meant that something 
was going to happen, as we soon learned. 

" Say, Jim," said he to me, " have you got any canvas up 
at the house? " 

" No," I replied. " What do you want It for? " 

*' I want to rig up a skate sail. If you have an old sheet, 
that will do just as well." 

" Well, I guess I can find you an old sheet. Do you think 
you can make one? " 

" Sure thing," answered 
Bill, and off we went to the 
house, where I received my 
first lesson on the practical 
genius of my chum. 



y' 

/ 
/ 

1 / 


\ 1 





"Bill's" Skate Sail. 



Fig. 3. Laying Out the Sail. 



The old sheet which Mother furnished us was laid out on 
the floor and two corners were folded over to the center, as 
shown In the drawing, making a triangle with base 7 feet 
long and sides each about 4 feet 6 inches long. The surplus 
end piece was then cut off, and a broad hem turned and 



22 



The Scientific American Boy. 





Fig. 4. 
The Tape Tie Strings. 



basted all around the edges of the triangle. Bill wanted 
to work the sewing machine himself, but Mother was 
afraid he would break something, so she sewed down 
the hem for us. Then, under Bill's super- 
vision, she re-enforced the corners by 
sewing on patches of cloth. Along 
the diagonal a strip of heavy tape 
was sewed, leaving loops at in- 
tervals, which afterward were 
cut and provided means for tying 
the sail to the mast. Tie 
strings of tape were 

also sewed at the corners, as shown in the 

illustration, and then a trip was made to 

.the garden in search of suitable 

spars. A smooth bean pole of 

about the right weight 

served for the mast, 

and another stick 

with a crotch at 

one end served as the 

boom or cross-spar. The 

spars were cut to proper length, 

and the sail was then tied on, as 

illustrated, with the crotch of the 

cross-spar fitted against and tied to 

Fig. 5. the center of the mast. A light 

'Bill's" Sail Complete, rope, long enough to provide plenty 



" BUir 



23 



of slack, was tied to the ends of the mast to assist In guiding 
the sail when in use. In the meantime I had procured 
another sheet from one of our neighbors, and Bill helped me 
make a sail for myself. It was not until long after dark 
that we finished our work. 

■Willow Clump Island. 

The next day we tried the sails and it didn't take me very 
long to learn how to steer the device. The wind had changed 
again and this time blew up the canal. We took the line 
of least resistance, and went skimming up the ice lane like 
birds for several miles before we realized how far we were 
getting away from home. As we rounded a bend in the 
canal, much to my astonishment, I saw just before us the 
bridge at Raven Hill, eight miles from our town. We 
started to go back, but the wind was too strong for us, and 
there wasn't much room in which to do any tacking; nor 
could we make any progress when the sails were folded. I 
began to get extremely tired and rather exasperated at Bill 
for not having thought of the return trip before he led me 
such a hot pace up the canal. But Bill was getting tired, too. 

" Look here, Jim," he said, " we haven't covered a mile, 
and I'm worn out." 

" Why in thunder didn't you think of this before we 
started?" I returned. 

" How much money have you with you? " was the reply. 

" What's that got to do with it? " 

" I'll tell you in a minute. How much have you? " 



24 The Scientific American Boy. 

A careful search of my dozen odd pockets netted the sum 
of twenty-seven cents. 

" I have fifty-nine," said Bill, " and that makes eighty-six 
altogether, doesn't it? Isn't there a railroad depot near 
here?" 

" There is one at Raven Hill, and the next is at Lumber- 
ville. That is about eleven miles from home." 

" Well," said Bill, " at three cents each per mile that 
would amount to sixty-six cents. Let's sail on to Lumber- 
ville and then take the train back." 

On we sped to Lumberville, only to find that the next train 
was not due until noon, and it was now just half past ten. 

Time never hung heavy on our hands. Out on the river 
we espied an island. I had heard of this island — Willow 
Clump Island, it was called — but had never been on it; 
consequently I fell in with Bill's suggestion that we make it 
a visit. Owing to the rapids which separated the island 
from the Jersey shore, we had to go up stream a quarter of 
a mile, to where a smooth sheet of ice had formed, over a 
quiet part of the river; thence we sailed down to the island 
along the Pennsylvania side. 

" What a capital island for a camp," cried Bill, after we 
had explored it pretty thoroughly. " Have you ever been 
out camping? " 

I had to confess I never had, and then Bill gave me a 
glowing account of his experiences in the Adirondacks with 
his uncle the year before, which so stirred up the romance 
in me that I wanted to camp out at once. 



" Bill." 



25 



" Shucks! " said Bill, " We would freeze in this kind of 
weather, and besides, we've got to make a tent first." 

We then sat down and made elaborate plans for the 
summer. Suddenly the distant sound of a locomotive 
whistle interrupted our reveries. 

" Jiminy crickets 1 " I exclaimed. "That's the train 
coming through Spalding's Cut. We've got to hustle if 
we are to catch it." 

We were off like the wind, and a merry chase brought us 
to the Lumberville depot in time to flag the train. We 
arrived at Lamington at half past twelve, a trifle late for 
dinner, rather tired and hungry, but with a glowing and I 
fear somewhat exaggerated account of our adventure for 
the credulous ears of the rest of the boys. 

Organizing the Society. 

The camping idea met with the hearty approval of all, 
and it was decided to begin preparations at once for the 
following summer. Dutchy, whose father was a member 
of a geographical society, suggested that we form a society 
for the exploration of Willow Clump Island. By general 
acclamation Bill was chosen president of the society, 
Dutchy was made vice-president, Reddy was elected 
treasurer, and they made me secretary. It was Dutchy 
who proposed the name " The Society for the Scientific In- 
vestigation, Exploration and Exploitation of Willow Clump 
Island." It was decided to make an expedition of exploration 
as soon as we could make skate sails for the whole society. 



CHAPTER II. 



SKATE SAILS. 



The duties of the secretary, as defined in the constitution 
which Dutchy Van Syckel drew up, were to keep a record 
of all the acts of the society, the minutes of every meeting, 
and accurate detailed descriptions of all work accomplished. 
Therefore, while the rest of the society was busy cutting up 
old sheets, levied from the surrounding neighborhood, and 
sewing and rigging the sails under Bill's direction, I, with 
pad and pencil in hand, took notes on all the operations. 



The Double Swedish Sail. 

Bill evolved some new types of sails which differed ma- 
terially from the type described in the first chapter. One 
was a double sail — " the kind they use in Sweden," he ex- 
plained. One of the 
sheets which the forag- 
ing party brought in 
was extra large; it 
measured approxi- 
mately two yards and Fig. 6. 

a half square. This Dimensions of Double Swedish Sail. 

, N. B. — The mark (') means feet and (") 

was folded on itself, means inches. 

26 




Skate Sails. 



27 



making a parallelogram seven feet six inches long and three 
feet nine inches wide. The sheets we had were all rather worn 
and some were badly torn, so that we had to make our sails 
of double thickness, sewing patches over 
the weak spots. A broad hem was turned 
down at each end, and heavy tape was 
sewed on, leaving loops as before, to attach 
them to the 




Fig. 7. 

Halyards Looped 
onto Pole. 



spars. This reduced the length 
of our sail to seven feet three 
inches. The end spars were spaced 



ct 



d^ 




Fig. 8. The Double Swedish Sail. (q 

apart by a light pole about ten feet long, to which they were 
tied at the points of intersection. The spars were also braced 
by halyards looped over the ends of the pole in the manner 
indicated In the drawing (Fig. 7). It took a crew of two 
boys to manipulate this sail. In use, the pole of the rig was 
carried on the shoulders, and the sail was guided by means 
of ropes attached to the lower corners of the vertical spars. 



28 



The Scientific American Boy. 




These ropes in naut- 
ical language are 
called " sheets," 
The boy at the rear 
was the pilot and 
did the steering, be- 
cause his position behind the sail gave him an unobstructed 
view in all directions. When changing tack the sail was 
lifted overhead to the other side of the crew. 

The Single Swedish Sail. 




Fig. 10. 
The Single 
Swedish 
Sail. 



Another sail of 
similar form, but 
for use of one boy 
only, is shown in 
Fig. 10. This had 
a height of six 
and one-half 
feet at the for- 
ward end and three 
feet at the rear; and 
its length was five 



Ke£f CLOiE 
y-o Ji£6 



Skate Sails. 



29 



Fig. 11. 
The Lanteen 
Sail. 



feet. This sail was very satisfactory in light winds, owing 

to its great area. In use we found that it was very important 

to keep the lower edge against the leg, as indicated by the 

arrow. The rig was manipulated just like the double Swedish 

sail, lifting it over the head when it was desired to 

change tack. 

The Lanteen Sail. 

The lanteen sail we 
found to be a very good 
rig. It was made in 
the form of a tri- 
angle, measuring 
eight feet on one yl 

side, seven and 
one-half feet on 
another side and 
six and one-half 
feet on the third. 
The six and one- 
half foot side 
was secured to a "^ 
boom, and the seven and one-half 
foot side to a yard. The yard and 
boom were hinged together by a leather strap nailed on as 
shown in Fig. 12, and to this hinge a rope was attached, which 
served as a sheet. These spars were secured to a mast erected 
perpendicularly to the boom and intersecting the yard a little 
above its center. We had had some trouble with the first 




30 



The Sdent'ific American Boy. 




Fig. 12. Hinge for Spars. 



sails we made in keeping the base of the sail against the 
body, and to overcome this difficulty Bill proposed tying the 
bottom of the mast to the leg. This was 
a rather risky thing to do, as we learned 
later, for in case of accident it 
would be difficult to get clear of 
the sail. It 
was R e d d y 
who finally 
solved the 
problem by rigging up a step for the mast. 
It consisted of a leather tag tied to the leg, 
land provided with a hole Into which the 
bottom of the mast was 
fitted. To prevent the 
mast from slipping too 
far into the step the lower 
portion of it was whittled 

1 1 • 111 Leather Mast Step. 

down, leaving a shoulder 
which rested on the leather. Bill later de- 
vised another step, which consisted of a 
Svooden block (Fig. 14) strapped to the leg 
^. , ^ (and formed with a shallow socket to receive 

Fig. 14. 

Wooden Mast Step, the end of the mast. 





Fig. 13. 



The Danish Sail. 



But the most satisfactory sail we found to be the Danish 
sail, though It was not until we had served quite a long 



Skate Sails. 



31 




v.^ 



6'0"- 

Fig. IS. The Danish Sail. 



■^'O" '> apprenticeship and 

sustained many 
pretty bad falls that 
we mastered the 
art of manipulat- 
ing these sails 
properly. Our 
ideas on this sail 
were obtained 
from a French il- 
lustrated paper 
which Dutchy 
Van Syckel picked up in his father's library. This sail was 
formed with a topsail so arranged that it could be lowered 
when the wind was too strong. The dimensions of the sail 
as we made it are given in the draw- 
ing (Fig. 15). The top of the sail 
was lashed to a spar, which ^|^ 
was connected by a short 
stick to another spar tied to 
the mainsail about eighteen 
inches lower down. 
The sail was strength- 
ened with an extra 
strip of cloth along 
the lower spar,^ 
and the tie strings '^ j^e^fTW^/? /-^^^^^ 

were applied in p;g. i^. topsail of the Danish Rig. 




The Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 17 Before the Wind. Fig. 18. Topsail Lowered. 

Fig. 19. Skating against the Wind. Fig. 20. On the Port Tack. 



Skate Sails. 



33 



the usual way. The connecting stick, or topmast we may 
call it, was hinged to the lower spar by means of a short piece 
of leather strap, which was passed round the spar in the 
form of a loop and its two ends nailed to the bottom of the 
topmast. The topmast extended above the upper spar a 
short distance, and to this we fastened the flag which our 
society had adopted. A couple of strong cords were secured 
to the center spar to provide for fastening the sail onto the 
skater. Tied to the lower corners of the mainsail were two 
sticks which were used for guiding the sail when in flight. 

The different methods of sailing with this rig are shown in 
Figs. 17-20. When sailing with the wind the skater 
would stand very erect, bending backward in proportion as 
the wind blew fresher. By inclining the sail in one direction 
or the other, the skater could tack to port or starboard. 
When moving against the wind by skating in the usual way, 
the body was bent forward in such manner that the sail lay 
horizontal, so that it would not offer a purchase for the wind. 

Bat's "Wings. 

One more sail deserves mention. It was Bill's idea, and it 
came near to ending his career the first day he tried it. It 
had no spars at all, but was merely a strip of cloth of some- 
what triangular shape. The upper side was tied to the 
head, and the two corners to the wrists, while the lower 
portion was tied to the ankles. This converted him into a 
huge white-winged bat. Bill had to try it at once, even 
though the rest of the, sails were not finished, and a very 



34 



The Scientific Americati Boy. 



comical spectacle he made as he flapped his wings in his 
endeavors to tack. When the wind was too strong for him 
he had merely to drop his arms and thus lower sail. At 
length he became tired of holding his arms out at full length, 

and I got him a stick 
to put over his shoul- 
ders and rest his arms 
on. But that stick was 
Bill's undoing, for 
coming around a sud- 
den bend in the canal 
he caught the full 
force of the wind, 
which knocked him flat 
on his back before he 
could disentangle him- 
self from the stick and 
lower sail. It took us 
some time to bring him 
back to consciousness, 
and a very scared lot of boys we were for a while. How- 
ever, the lesson was a good one, for after that we were very 
cautious in experimenting with sails that had to be tied on, 
such as the Danish rig and the lanteen rig, before Reddy in- 
vented the mast step. 

It was not until the day after Christmas that the sails were 
all completed, but then there was scarcely any wind blowing 
and we could not attempt the expedition to the Island. 




Fig. 21. 



CHAPTER III. 



SNOW SHOES, SKIS AND SWAMP SHOES. 

The next day, Sunday, It began to snow, and we realized 
that our chance of skating up to Willow Clump Island was 
spoiled. All the afternoon it snowed, and the next morning 
we woke to find the ground covered to a depth of eight inches 
and snow still falling. But who ever heard of a boy com- 
plaining because there was snow on the ground? Here were 
new difficulties to overcome, new problems to solve, and 
new sports provided for our amusement. There was no 
disappointment shown by any of the members of the S. S. 
I. E. E. of W. C. I., as they met in the woodshed immedi- 
ately after breakfast to discuss proceedings for the day. 
There seemed to be but one way of reaching the island, and 
that was by means of snow shoes. Bill had only a vague 
idea of how snow shoes were made. 

Chair Seat Snow Shoe. 

The first pair was made from a couple of thin wooden 
chair seats which we found in the shed. They proved quite 
serviceable, being very light and offering a fairly large bear- 
ing surface. The chair seats were trimmed off at each side 
to make the shoes less clumsy, and a loop of leather was 

35 



36 



The Scientific American Boy. 




fastened near the center of each shoe, in 
which the toe could be slipped. This shoe 
possessed the disadvantage of being too 
flat and of picking up too much snow 
when used. 

Barrel Stave Snow^ Shoe. 



Fig. 22. 
Chair Seat Snow Shoe 



Another pair of shoes was made from 
barrel staves. At first one stave was made 
to serve for a shoe, but we found that two staves fastened 
together with a pair of wooden cleats were much better. 
Jack was the proud inventor of these shoes and insisted that 
they were far more satisfac- 
tory than the elaborate ones 

which were later devised. Fig. 23. Barrel Stave Snow Shoe. 




Fig. 24. 

Barrel Hoop 
Snow Shoe. 



Barrel Hoop Snow Shoe. 

Now that Jack had shown his ingenuity, 
Fred thought it was his turn to do something, 
and after mysteriously disappearing for the 
space of an hour we saw him suddenly come 
waddling back to the shed on a pair of barrel 
hoops covered with heavy canvas. He had 
stretched the canvas so tightly across the 
hoops that they were bent to an oval shape. 
It was claimed for these shoes, and with good 
reason, that they were not so slippery as the 



Snow Shoes, Skis and Swamp Shoes. 



37 



barrel stave shoe, for they permitted the foot to sink slightly 
into the snow. 

After dinner, Dutchy came back with a book of his 
father's, a sort of an encyclopedia in which several different 
kinds of snow shoes were illustrated. Reddy, whose father 
owned a sawmill, volunteered to provide us with strips of 
hickory from which to make the frames. 



The Sioux Snow Shoe. 

The Sioux snow shoe was the first type we 
tackled. Two strips of hickory 4 feet long 
and ^ inch square in section, were bent 
over a pair of spreaders and securely 
fastened together at each end. The 
spreaders were about 12 
inches long and located 
about 15 inches apart. 
They were 
notched at the 
ends, as shown in 
Fig. 26, to re- 
ceive the side strips, which were not fastened 
together until after they had been nailed to the spreaders. 
We found that the most satisfactory way of fastening to- 
gether the ends of the hickory strips was to bolt them to- 
gether. When the frame Avas completed, we began the 
tedious process of weaving in the filling or web of the snow 




Fig. 26. 
Frame of the Sioux Shoe. 




Fig. 25. 
Sioux Shoe. 



38 



The Scientific American Boy. 



sr^/rr //£/?£ 



shoe. First we cut notches in the edges of the spreaders, 
spacing these notches an inch apart. Then we procured 
several balls of heavy twine at the corner store. Tying one 
end of the cord to the right side stick about three Inches 
below the forward spreader, we stretched a strand down to 
the notch at the left end of the lower spreader. The strand 
was drawn taut, and after making several twists around it 

the cord was tied to the left 
side stick three inches above 
the spreader. From 
this point the cord 
was stretched to the notch at 
the right end of the upper 
spreader, twisted several 
times and brought back to the 
starting point. The cord was 
now wrapped around the side 
stick for a space of about an 
inch, and then carried down 
to the second notch on the 
lower spreader, whence It was 
woven through the other two 
strands and tied about the left side stick about four Inches 
from the spreader. Thus the weaving continued, passing 
the cord alternately over and under any cross strands en- 
countered. In order to make the left side correspond with 
the right, a separate cord was wound around it, filling up the 
space between the strands of the web. The filling above 




Fig 27. 
Web of the Sioux Shoe. 



Snow Shoes, Skis and Swamp Shoes. 



39 



and below the spreaders could not be so methodically done, 
but we managed to weave the strands quite neatly with about 
the same mesh as used at the 
center. To facilitate the weav- 
ing we improvised a rough needle 
of a piece of wire. The latter 




Fig. 28. Weaving Needle 



was bent double to receive the cord which was wedged in be- 
tween the two arms of the needle. 



The Iroquois Shoe. 

But the best snow shoe we made was the Iroquois shoe. 
The frame of this shoe was made of hickory strips of the 
same width and thickness as used in the Sioux shoe, but 
8 feet long. The strips were bent in a loop and the ends 
were bolted together. How to bend the wood without break- 
ing it seemed a very difficult problem. Wood, we knew, 

could be easily bent with- 
out breaking if boiled or 
steamed for a while; but 
we had nothing large 
enough in 
which to boil a 
strip of wood 
8 feet long. 
Bill hit upon 
the plan o f 
wrapping the stick 
with burlap and 




>fr 



Fig. 29. 



Bending the 
Hickory Strips 



40 



The Scientific American Boy. 




then pouring boiling water on it until it became sufficiently 
soft to bend easily. An old oats-sack was cut up into strips 
and wound onto the hickory sticks for a distance of i8 
inches at each side of the center. We then repaired to the 
kitchen to do the steaming. The hickory stick was held over 
a large dish-pan filled with boiling water, and from this we 

dipped out the water and 
poured it slowly over the 
burlap wrapping of the 
stick. After a little of this 

Fig. 30. 1 . 1 r 

Frame of Iroquois treatment the stick was suf- 
ficiently steamed to permit 
of bending to the required shape. The ends 
were then firmly secured by means of bolts 
passed through bolt holes which had been 
previously drilled. The frame was com- 
pleted by fitting the spreader sticks in place, 
after which it was laid away to dry. When 
the frame was perfectly dry we started 
weaving the web. In this case, however, 
instead of cord we used cane strips, which 
we had bought from a chair caner. This 
necessitated drilling holes in the side sticks 
to receive the cane strips. The web con- 
sisted of strands crossing each other di- 
agonally, as illustrated. Our second pair 
of Iroquois snow shoes was made with a web of rawhide 
which we bought from a hardware store at Millville. 




Fig. 31. 
Iroquois Snow Shoe. 



Snow Shoes, Skis and Swamp Shoes. 



41 



The Ainu Snow Shoe. 



One of the snowshoes described in the book was very much 
like Fred's barrel-hoop snow shoe in appearance. According 

to the description, it was a type used by the Ainus, a peculiar 
people living in the cold northern Islands of Japan. As the 
shoe seemed quite simple and rather unique, we thought we 

would make one like it. Two hickory 

strips each 4 feet long were bent to a 

U-shape and lashed together, forming 

an oval about 2 feet 6 inches long by 1 8 

inches wide. The frame was held to 

oval shape by tying the sides together. 

Then the filling was woven In, running 

the strands diagonally, as shown In 

Fig. 32. 

We had excellent weather for snow 

shoes after that snowstorm. A thaw 
followed by a cold spell caused a thick crust to form on the 
snow which would nearly hold us up without the aid of our 
snowshoes. We were rather awkward with those shoes for 
a while, trying to keep them clear of each other, and we 
found It particularly hard to turn sharply without causing one 
shoe to run foul of the other. But with a little practice we 
soon felt quite at home on them. In order to prevent cutting 
the web with our heels, we found It necessary to wear 
rubbers. 




Fig. 32. 
Ainu Snow Shoe. 




42 The Scientific American Boy. 

Our vacation came to an end before we were prepared for 
the expedition to Willow Clump Island. But before leaving 
the subject on snow shoes, 
two more shoes remain to 
be described, namely the 

Swiss snow ^^/*Th _^-=::^ 

shoe and the „. ^, ^, . „. . 

Fig. 33. The Norwegian Ski. 

N o r w e gian 

ski. The Swiss shoe was made during the summer and the 

ski during the following winter. 



The Norwegian Ski. 

The Norwegian ski was made of close-grained wood, i 
inch thick, 33/2 inches wide and 6 feet long. About 18 
inches from the forward end the wood was planed down to 
a thickness of 34 of ^^i inch. This end was placed in the 
dish-pan of boiling water, and in a short time it was pliable 
enough to permit of bending. It was secured 
in the proper bent position by slipping the toe 
^^^^^^^^^^^^^__^ end of the shoe be- 
^^^^ clT^ tween the banisters 

Fig. 34. Bending the Ski. ^^ ^j^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ 

and nailing a cleat back of the heel end. When the ski was 
perfectly dry the toe strap was nailed on just back of the 
balancing point, and also another strap, to be secured about 
the ankle. Then a cleat was nailed onto the ski to fit against 
the heel of the shoe. In use we found it best to cut a groove 




Show Shoes, Skis and Swamp Shoes. 



43 



in the bottom of the ski, so as to give us a better 
grip on the snow in climbing up hills. With the 
skis we had to use short poles or " ski sticks " to assist 
in starting, stopping and steering when coasting. 
The ski stick was a bean pole provided with a wooden 
block near the lower end, to prevent it from being 
forced too far through the snow. 



The Swiss Snow Shoe or 
Swamp Shoe. 

The Swiss shoe was made 
primarily to assist us in explor- 
ing some boggy land a short 
distance up the river from our 
The original swamp 
shoes were made from the 
bottoms of two old baskets, and they 
worked so admirably that it was de- 
cided to equip the whole society with 
them. Uncle Ed, when told about them, informed us that 
that was the kind of snow shoe used in Switzerland. Of 
course, we could not afford to destroy a pair of baskets for 
each member of the club, and so we had to weave the shoes 
from the willows which grew on the island. 



Fig. 35 
The Ski island 
Stick. 




Fig. 36. 
The Swiss Snow Shoe. 



CHAPTER IV. 



TENT MAKING. 



We had a farewell meeting of the society the evening 
before Bill and I had to return to boarding-school. At this 
meeting plans were made for the Easter vacation. We also 
considered the matter of getting parental permission for our 
summer outing. So far we had been afraid to breathe a 
word of our plans outside of the society, since Fred had said 
something about it in the presence of Father and had been 
peremptorily ordered to banish all such hair-brained, Wild 
West notions from his head. We realized from that incident 
that the consent of our parents would not be so very easily 
obtained. But Bill came forward with a promising sugges- 
tion. He would write to his Uncle Ed and see if he couldn't 
be persuaded to join the expedition. At first we demurred. 
We didn't want a " governor " around all the time. But 
Bill assured us that his uncle was " no ordinary man " ; that 
he would not interfere with our plans, but would enter right 
into them and give us many valuable pointers. Though not 
by any means convinced, we told him to go ahead and invite 
his uncle, as that seemed about the only means of winning 
over our fathers and mothers. The society was then ad- 
journed until our Easter vacation began, each member 

44 



Tent Making. 



45 



promising to earn and save as much money as he could in the 
meantime to buy the materials for a tent and provisions for 
the summer outing. 



"Word From Uncle Ed. 



Bill's letter to Uncle Ed was answered as quickly as the 
mail could travel to Brazil and back. Uncle Ed heartily ap- 
proved of our plans, and said that he would be delighted to 
join the expedition. He could not be on hand before the 





< 


C - 


- AC----- 


. <r 


-><--■ 


... cc . 


•— X- 


.,.£--..>( 






Os 


















<K 




^ 





< c --->ic o" >< ^ >k--- c — > 

Fig. 37. Breadths sewed together for Roof and Side Walls of Tent. 



1st of July, but that would give us plenty of time to make all 
necessary preparations. He told us not to worry about 
gaining the consent of our parents. He would write to 
them and see them all personally, if necessary to win their 
approval. 



46 



The Scientific American Boy. 



The Canvas Tent. 



Fig. 38 The Sail Stitch. 



When at last spring arrived and we returned to Laming- 
ton on our Easter vacation, quite a sum of money had been 
collected, nearly $15.00, if I remember rightly; at any rate 
plenty to buy the materials for a good-sized tent and leave a 

large surplus for provisions, 
etc. Bill figured out on paper 
just how much canvas we 
would need for a tent 7 feet 
wide by 9^ feet long, which 
he estimated would be about 
large enough to hold us. 
It took 34 yards, 30 
inches wide. Then we 
visited the village store to make our purchase. Canvas we 
found a little too expensive for us, but a material called drill 
seemed about right. It cost ten cents a yard, but since we 
wanted such a quantity of it the price was reduced to a total 
of $3.00. We repaired to the attic to lay out the material. 
First we cut out four lengths of 5 yards and 26 inches 
each. The strips were basted together, lapping the edges 
I Inch and making a piece 17 feet 2 inches long by 9 feet 9 
inches wide. Mother' sewed the breadths together on the 
machine, using a double seam, as in sail making; that is, two 
parallel rows of stitching were sewed in, one along each 
overlapping edge, as shown in Fig. 38. A i-inch hem was 



Tent Making. 



47 







i 




















c 




* 












; 


b 


I 




\ 




* 






1 y 


\ 


^ 








' °^/ 




,\ 


1 
1 


\ 


4 

5' 

N 


' /^ 






; 










^ 



(f /77 ^ 

Fig. 39. 
Cutting out the Door Flaps. 



then turned and sewed at the 
ends of the goods, so that the 
piece measured exactly 17 feet 
long. It served for the roof 
and side walls of the tent. 
Our next operation was to cut 
three strips 1 1 feet long, and 
sew them together with a 
double seam as before. This 
piece was now slit along the 
center line m, Fig. 39, mak- 
ing two lengths 3 feet 8 
inches wide. The strips were 

then cut along the diagonal lines a a, forming the 

end walls or doors, so to speak, of the tent. In sewing 

on the door flaps we 

started first at the 

bottom of the side 

c, sewing it to the 

side edge of the 

main piece, as shown 

In Fig. 40, and run- 
ning the seam up for 

a distance of exactly 

3 feet 6 Inches. 

After all the door 

strips had been 

sewed along their c ^. .„ c • »u t^ n 

° Fig. 40. bewmg on the Door Flaps. 







48 The Scientific American Boy. 

edges the sewing was continued up the diagonal or a edges. 
In cutting out the door pieces we had allowed i inch on each 
side for hems and seams, so that the door pieces met without 
lapping at the exact center of the main or body piece, that is, 
at the peak of the tent. 

Our next step was to fasten the necessary ropes and loops. 
Ten 8-foot lengths of light rope were procured. These 
were fastened at the top of the side walls, that is, 3 feet 6 
inches from the ends of the main or body piece, one at each 
corner and one on each seam. The cloth was 
strengthened at these points with 
patches sewed on the inside. At 
the bottom of the side walls we 
Adfusttble sewed on loops of heavy tape. 
Ridge Pole. Thcsc wcrc spaccd about 1 5 inches 
apart. Along the b edges of the door pieces tie strings of 
tape were fastened. A rope 15 feet long was attached to 
the peak at the front and at the rear of the tent. The front 
and rear posts of the tent were made from scantlings measur- 
ing 2 by 4 inches, which were procured from Mr. Schreiner's 
lumber yard. They were planed smooth and sawed off to a 
length of 7 feet 6 inches. A slot was cut in the end of each 
stick to a depth of 6 inches and measuring slightly over an 
inch in width. For the ridge pole a strip i inch thick, 23/2 
inches wide and 10 feet long was secured. This was fitted 
into the slotted ends of these posts, where it was fastened 
by wooden pegs slipped into holes drilled through the ends 
of the posts and the ridge pole. A number of these peg 




Tent Making. 



49 




42. The Tent Set Up. 

holes were provided, so that if the canvas stretched the ridge 
pole could be raised or lowered to prevent the walls from 
dragging on the ground. We set up the tent in our back 
yard to see if it was properly constructed. Twelve stakes 
were required, ten for the sides and one for the ridge stays 
at the front and rear. The side stakes were driven into the 
ground at a distance of about 8 feet from the center of the 
tent. First we tied the guy ropes to the stakes, but later we 
found it much easier to secure them with tie blocks. 

Tie Blocks. 





Fig. 43. The Wood Tie Block. 



Fig. 44. The Wire Tie. 



These were made of wood ^ inch thick, i inch wide and 
each measured 3 inches long. A hole was drilled into the 
block at each end and through these holes the rope was 
threaded. A knot in the rope then held the end from slip- 



Fig. 45. Bottom of Tent Wall. 



50 The Scientific American Boy. 

ping out. The loop between the two holes, or the bight, as 
sailors would call it, was now slipped over the stake, and 
the rope hauled tight by drawing up the tie block, as shown 
in Fig. 43. A still later improvement consisted in making 

ties of stout galvanized 

\l' / \\jU/ \I ^^^^ wire, bent to the form 

■^ Z^^&^^T^I^^^^^^ shown in Fig. 44. The 

wooden ties were apt to 
swell and split open when 
exposed to the weather, while the wire ties could always be 
relied upon. 

The walls of the tent were held down along the bottom 
by railway spikes hooked through the tent loops and driven 
into the ground. Wooden pegs with notches to catch the 
loops would have served as well, but Dutchy happened to 
find a number of the spikes along the track and in his usual 
convincing manner argued that they were far better than 
pegs because their weight would hold the cloth down even If 
they were not firmly embedded in the ground. 

The Annex. 

We were surprised to find out how small the tent was 
after it was set up. We could see at once that when we had 
put in all the stores and provisions we would need, there 
would not be room enough for six boys and a man to stretch 
themselves out comfortably in it. Bill had evidently made 
a miscalculation, but he suggested that we remedy the error 
by building an annex for our kitchen utensils and supplies. 



Tent Making. 



51 



«i 



-y^t 



Fig. 46. 



i 



Cutting out the Annex, 




This gave us a two-room tent, which we found to be quite 
an advantage. Twelve more yards of drill were bought and 
cut into two strips, each 1 7 feet 2 inches long. The breadths 
were then sewed together, and the ends turned up and 
hemmed to make a piece 17 feet long and 4 feet 9 inches 
wide. Tape loops were then sewed on as before, and ropes 
were fastened on at the top of the side walls, that is, 3 feet 
6 inches from the ends of the strips. We thought it would 
be better to have a slanting ridge on the annex, so we cut out 
a wedge-shaped piece from the center of the two strips, as 
shown by dotted lines B B m Fig. 46. This wedge-shaped 
piece measured 2 feet at the outer end of the annex, and 




Fig. 47. The Annex Applied. 



52 The Scientific American Boy. 

tapered down to a point at the inner end. The canvas was 
then sewed together along these edges. Tie strings were 
sewed to the inner edge of the annex and corresponding ones 
were attached to the main tent a little ways back from the 
edge, so that the two could be tied together, with the annex 
lapping well over on the roof and side walls. A notch was 
cut out of the peak of the annex, so that it could be tied 
around the rear post of the tent, and notches were cut at 
the top of the side walls to permit passing the cloth around 
the wall ropes. Instead of supporting the ridge of the annex 
on a ridge pole, we used the rear guy line of the tent, prop- 
ping it up with a scantling about 5^ feet long. 



CHAPTER V. 

PREPARING FOR THE EXPEDITION. 

School closed on the 21st of June that year, just ten days 
before the expected arrival of Uncle Ed. The first thing we 
did was to set up our tent in the back yard and camp out so 
as to become acclimatized. It is good that we did this, for 
the very first night a heavy summer shower came up which 
nearly drenched us. The water beat right through the thin 
canvas roof of our tent. Had we been able to afford the 
best quality of canvas duck, such an occurrence would prob- 
ably have been avoided. But we solved the difficulty by using 
a tent fly; that is, a strip of canvas stretched over the tent 
and spaced a short distance from it to break the fall of the 
rain drops. 
















Fig. 48. The Wall Tent with the Fly fastened on. 
53 




FLY 

RIDGEPOLE 
M.4IN 
' RIDGEPOLE 



54 The Scientific American Boy. 

Tent Fly. 

Again we had to visit the village 

storekeeper; this time we bought out 

Tife Fl ^'^ whole remaining stock, sixteen 

Ridge P6le. y^j.jg q£ j^jjl jhis was cut into 

four-yard strips, which were sewed together as before and 
the ends turned up and hemmed. Tie strings were sewed to 
the ends of the strips so that the fly could be tied to the wall 
ropes of the tent. At the ridge the fly was supported about 
six inches above the tent rope by a second ridge pole held by 
pegs in the top holes of the tent posts. 

Provisions and Supplies. 

The ten days before Uncle Ed arrived were busy indeed. 
We had to gather together the necessary provisions and sup- 
plies. Our personal outfits were very simple. Each member 
supplied himself with a change of underwear, a bathing suit, 
a blanket and a toothbrush, A single comb and brush 
served for the entire society, and was used on Sundays, the 
only day we really dressed up. All the rest of the time we 
lived in our bathing suits, except, of course, on cold rainy 
days. Our kitchen outfit consisted of a large cooking pot, 
two kettles, a frying pan, a coffee pot, a small oil stove, a 
half-dozen each of plates, cups, saucers, knives and forks, a 
dozen spoons, two tablespoons, and, in addition, several large 



Preparing for the Expedition. 55 

plates and bowls for pantry use. We also took with us a 
dish-pan and several dish-towels. For our larder we col- 
lected the following: A bag of flour, ten pounds of sugar, 
two pounds of salt, three pounds of coffee, four pounds of 
oatmeal, four pounds of butter, two pounds of lard, six 
pound of beans, six pounds of rice, three pounds of bacon, 
six cans of condensed milk, a dozen eggs, box of pepper, and 
several jars of canned peaches and pears, and also a half 
dozen glasses of jelly. 

It was Dutchy who suggested that we have a chicken yard, 
In connection with our camp, to supply us with fresh eggs. 
It was a capital idea, and by the dint of some coaxing we 
managed to secure the loan of a half dozen hens and a 
rooster. 

Our miscellaneous list included a spade, pick and shovel, 
an ax, a hatchet, two large pails, a barn lantern, a can of 
kerosene, a dozen candles, a cocoa box filled with matches, a 
pair of scissors, needles, buttons, pins and safety pins, a 
spool of white and another of black cotton, fishing tackle, 
a roll of heavy twine, a coil of rope, and a set of dominoes 
and checkers. But most important of all was a chest of 
tools belonging to Reddy. These were all collected when 
Uncle Ed arrived. Dutchy also contributed a large compass, 
which we found very useful later on, for surveying the island. 

Crossbow. 

Reddy had a shotgun which he wanted to bring along, 
but my father, and Dutchy's as well, wouldn't let us go camp- 



56 The Scientific American Boy. 

ing if there was to be any gunpowder along, so we had to 
leave it behind. Of course we didn't miss it at all when we 
got to the island, because there was so much else to do; 
but we all agreed with Dutchy, that " it wouldn't be no sort 
of a scientific expedition without takin' a gun along." As a 
substitute I suggested a bow and arrow. They all laughed 
at such a " kiddish " idea ; all but Bill, I mean. 

" It ain't such a bad notion," said he, " only a cross- 
bow would be better. I've seen them made out of umbrella 
ribs so they'd shoot like greased lightning." Of course we 
had to have one of these wonderful weapons. Down in the 

ash heap we found two broken 
umbrellas with 27-inch ribs. Bill 
selected ten good ribs, from which 
he wrenched off the spreaders with 
Fig. 50. a pair of pliers. The ribs were 

Binding the Bow. , , , , , • i-- 

then bound together by wmdmg 
stout twine around them. The winding was very evenly 
and closely done, so that the cord completely covered the 
ribs, making a solid rod of spring steel. But before winding 
we had laid in between the ribs a piece of heavy twine, to 
which the bowstrings could be tied after the bow was all 
wound. The stock of our crossbow was cut out of a board 
of soft wood I inch thick to as near the shape of a gun as 
we could get it. A hole was drilled through the muzzle 
end to receive the bow, and then the bowstring was tied fast. 
Along the upper edge of the barrel a V-shaped channel was 
cut. The channel was not very deep, only enough to receive 





Drifting down the Schreiners' Brook. 




Paddlins in the Old Scow. 



Preparing for the Expedition. 



57 



rfr/6G£ff 



Fig. 51. 
The Trigger, 




^">Q6e/f 



Fig. 52. 

The Trigger Set 

for Firing. 



a tenpenny nail with the head projecting half-way above the 
sides. A notch was cut across the barrel, through this chan- 
nel, at the trigger end, and a trigger made of heavy iron wire, 
bent to the shape shown in Fig. 51, <» 
was hinged to the gun by a bolt ^ 
which passed clear 
through the stock and 
through both eyes of the 
trigger. By using two nuts on the bolt, 
and tightening one against the other, 
they were prevented from working loose 
and coming off. When we wanted to fire the gun the bow- 
string was drawn back, and held by slipping it into the notch, 

and a nail was laid 
In the channel with 
its head against the 
bowstring. Then, on 

Fig. 53. The Umbrella Rib Crossbow. pulling the trigger, the 

bowstring was lifted out of the notch, and sent the nail off 
sailing. The long-grooved barrel Insured a 
very good aim. 



Megaphone. 

Another device we made In prepara- 
tion for the expedition was a megaphone. 
A sheet of light cardboard 30 Inches 
square was procured. At the center of 
one edge a pin was stuck Into the card- 





The Megaphone. 



58 



The Scientific American Boy. 



board, then a ^ 
the pin and the ^ 




Fig. 55. Layout of the Megaphone. 



piece of stout thread was looped over 
two ends were knotted together just 
5 inches from the 
pin. Another 
knot was also 
made 29 inches 
from the pin. 
Now, with a pen- 
cil hooked into 
the loop, and rest- 
ing first against 
the inner knot 
and then against 
the outer one, two 
arcs were drawn 



on the paper, one of 5-inch radius and the other of 29-inch 
radius. A line was now drawn from the pin to the point 
where the longer arc met the right hand edge of the paper, 

and a dotted line was drawn from the pin to a point 

1 1/2 inches from the edge at the 

other end of the arc. From a point 

I inch to the left of the pin we 
Fastener, then drew a line to the left end of 
the arc. With a scissors we cut the card- 
board along the arcs and straight lines, all 
but the dotted line, leaving a piece of the 
shape shown in Fig. 55. This piece was 
rolled Into a cone with the right edge The Mouthpiece. 



Fig. 56. 
Brass 




Preparing fur the Expedition. 59 

lapped over the left edge and lying against the dotted line. 
In this position it was held by means of several brass fast- 
eners of the kind shown in Fig. 56. 

A mouthpiece was formed out of a block of wood in which 
a large hole had been drilled. The block was then cut away 
until the walls were quite thin. The hole was reamed 
out at the top, as shown in Fig. 57, and the outer surface 
was tapered so that the small end of the megaphone would 
fit snugly on it. 

We planned to reach our camping grounds by way of the 
canal, and had provided for that purpose a large scow, which 
we expected to tow up to Lumberville and drag over to the 
river. 

The Scow. 

Our scow was made as follows: Two )4-inch pine boards, 
1 2 inches wide and 1 2 feet long, were selected from Reddy's 
father's lumber pile. These were used for the side pieces 
of the boat, and we tapered 



them off at the end to a width ' Z ;; 

Fig. 58. 
of 3 jf^ inches. This was done side pieces of the Scow. 



by making a straight cut from the end to a point three feet 
back along the edge of the board and then rounding off the 
edge with a draw-knife. When one board had been shaped, 
it was used as a pattern for the other, which was thus cut to 
exactly the same size. For the end pieces two strips, 4 
inches wide and 2 feet 103^ inches long, were sawed out of 



6o 



The Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 59. Frame of the Scow. 



a I -inch board. Then for the bottom we procured a number 
of ^-inch boards, 12 feet long and 8 inches wide, which 
we cut into 3-foot lengths. At Bill's suggestion, before 
nailing the parts together, we secured some strips of flannel, 

which were satu- 
rated with paint, 
and laid between the 
seams so as to make 
the boat perfectly 
water-tight. The side and end boards were then nailed 
together, with the strips of flannel between, the side boards 
overlapping the end boards, as shown in Fig. 59. After 
planing down the end 
boards until their 
edges laid flush with 
the edges of the side 
pieces, the bottom 
boards were nailed on, strips of cloth being inserted between 
them, as well as along the edges of the side and end boards. 
To brace the bottom a ^-inch board was placed at the 
center, inside the boat, and bent down against the floor, to 

which it was nailed with wire 
nails. The nails were driven 
into the board from the outer 
side of the boat and were 
clinched inside. Along the upper edges of the side boards 
two strips 2 inches wide and i inch thick were nailed. Two 
notches were cut in the inner side of each strip before it was 




Fig. 60. Nailing on the Bottom. 




Fig. 61. 
Sockets for Rowlocks. 



Preparing for the Expedition. 



6i 




nailed on. The notches were 5^ inch deep, i ^A inches wide, 
3 inches apart and about 5 3^ feet from the stern end. When 
the strips were nailed in place these notches formed sockets 
to receive the rowlocks. A strip was also nailed 
across the stern of the boat and formed with two 
central notches, to receive the rowlocks for a 
steering oar. This strip, however, was 3 inches 
wide, and projected i inch above the end board, 
so as to lie flush with the deck boards, which were 
later applied. Six thole pins, Yz inch thick, 43/2 
Inches long and 2 inches 
wide, were cut out of an 
oak board. The lower 
end of each pin was re- 
duced to a width of i ^2 
inches for a length of 2 
inches. The thole pins 
were then fitted snugly in the notches. Two cleats, nailed 
to the side boards inside, 7 inches below the upper edge, 
served to support a seat board i inch thick and 2 feet ioy> 
inches long. The aft edge of the seat was about 10 inches 




Fig. 63. 
Nailing on the Decks. 



K--^-->" 



Fig. 64. The Oar. 

forward of the rowlocks. The boat was completed by nail- 
ing on a couple of deck boards at each end. The oars were 
made of 2-Inch pine boards, 5 feet long and 5 inches wide. 



62 The Scientific American Boy. 

They were blocked out at Mr. Schreiner's sawmill and then 
shaped and smoothed down with a draw-knife and spoke- 
shaved. They were i % inches at the handle and 2 inches 
immediately below, tapering down to a diameter of i ^4 
inches at the top of the blade. The blades were 18 inches 
long, 5 inches wide, and planed down to a thickness of J4 
inch along the edges. 



CHAPTER VI. 



OFF TO THE ISLAND. 



The morning of July id dawned bright and clear, but 
long before daybreak the members of the S. S. I. E. E. of 
W. C. I. were astir. The jolly red sun peeping over the 
eastern hills witnessed an unaccustomed sight. Six greatly 
excited boys were running back and forth from the barn to 
the canal, bearing all manner of mysterious bundles, which 
were carefully deposited in a freshly painted scow. Yes, 
all six of us were there. 

A Unique Alarm Clock. 

We hadn't expected to see Reddy Schreiner at such an 
early hour, for he was always a sleepyhead, and no alarm 
clock would ever wake him. But this was an exceptional day, 
and, besides, Reddy was quite an original chap. He had 
taken one of the borrowed roosters into his room the night 
before, and when, early in the morning, Mr. Chanticleer had 
mounted the footboard of the bed, flapped his wings and 
given vent to his opinion of a boy who persisted in sleeping 
at that late hour of the day, the noise was too much for even 
Reddy's drowsy sensibilities. 

63 



64 



The Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 65. Off to the Island. 



The Trip to the Island. 



Our scow was not large enough to carry all the things we 
had to take with us, but as Mr. Schreiner was going to take 
Uncle Ed up in his wagon, we left the rest of our luggage for 
him to bring along. We boys walked the eleven miles up the 
canal to Lumberville, towing the barge. It was a tiresome 
task; but we divided the work into two-mile shifts, two boys 
towing at a time and then each taking a mile ride as steers- 
man in the boat. It was about noon when we arrived at 
Lumberville, and then we had to unload our boat before we 
could haul It out of the canal and down to the river. The 




The Ledge below the Goblins' Platform. 




The Camp at Willow Clump Island. 



Off to the Island. 



65 



river on the Jersey side of the island was so shallow that we 
waded across, pushing the boat ahead of us. The current 
was too swift to permit of rowing, and It was rather hard for 
us to keep our footing. But we managed to reach our desti- 
nation finally without any mishap. The island was thickly 
wooded, except for a small clearing where we landed. The 
first thing we did was to unpack our eatables, and Jack, the 
cook, soon had an appetizing pan of bacon and eggs sputter- 
ing on the kerosene stove. 




Fig. 66. Dragging the Scow over to the Island. 



66 The Scientific American Boy. 

Preliminary Exploration. 

As no better position offered at the time we pitched our 
tent In the clearing, pending a thorough search for a more 
suitable place elsewhere. Around the tent we dug a trench 
about a foot deep to prevent water from entering our quar- 
ters when it rained. It was about time for Uncle Ed and 
Mr. Schreiner to appear with the rest of our luggage, so we 
did not have time to do much exploring, but sauntered south- 
ward along the shore, always on the lookout for their arrival. 
About a quarter of a mile from the tent we came across the 
wreck of an old bridge, which had been washed down by 
some freshet. This was a great find, and served us many 
purposes, as will appear later. 

While we were examining the wreck we heard a distant 
" halloa " from the mainland. There was Uncle Ed sitting 
on a pile of goods on the railroad bank looking for all the 
world like an Italian Immigrant. We answered with a shout 
and scrambled back to the clearing. Then we ran splashing 
through the water, pushing the boat before us. It didn't 
take us long to load up and carry him back to the island. 

A Rustic Table. 

Uncle Ed entered into our fun at once. He was as en- 
thusiastic as a boy over the surroundings, and when we told 
him of the old bridge he started right off to investigate, 



Off to the Island. 



67 



taking the ax with him. Soon he 

had pried off a number o 

planks, which we used 

for a flooring to our 

tent. Then he built 

us a table out of four 

forked sticks, driven 

into the ground, and 

supporting two 

cross sticks, on 

which a pair of 

planks were laid. 




Fig. 67. The Rustic Table. 



The Small Filter. 

" Well, now, boys," said Uncle Ed, wiping the perspira- 
tion from his forehead, " I am as thirsty as a whale. Where 
do you get your drinking water? Is there a spring on the 
island?" 

We told him that we used the river water. 

"What, river water! That won't do at all," he cried. 
" You'll all have the typhoid fever. We must build a filter. 
I brought some charcoal with me for this very purpose." 

Taking one of our pails he broke a hole in the bottom of 
it and stuffed a sponge in the hole. A layer of small stones 
was then placed in the pail, over this a layer of broken char- 
coal with the dust carefully blown out, then a layer of clean 
sand, and finally a layer of gravel. Each layer was about two 
inches thick. The pail was suspended from a branch in a 



68 



The Scientific American Boy. 




COUnSE G/fHVEL'6 



cool place and proved an excellent filter, the water trickling 

out through the sponge being perfectly pure and sweet, no 

matter how dirty it had been when 

poured in; but the capacity 

of the filter was too small, 

and Uncle Ed said he would 

make us a larger one on the 

morrow if no spring was discovered 

in the meantime. 

The sun was getting low in the 

west, and we therefore postponed 

the exploration of our island until 

the following day. We had been 

up since four o'clock that morning 

and had done some pretty hard 

work; so, immediately after 

supper, we turned in and, 

lulled by the murmuring of 

the river, were soon fast 

Fig. 68. The Small Filter. asleep. 




The Barrel Filter. 



Immediately after breakfast the next day we started out in 
two parties to search the island. The only discovery of any 
moment was that made by Dutchy's party, which found a 
small island separated from ours by a narrow channel, 
through which the water ran like a mill-race. No spring was 



Off to the Island. 



69 



discovered, so Uncle Ed had to construct his large filter. 

Bill and I went over to Lumberville in search of a couple of 

cider barrels and a pailful of charcoal. The barrels were 

placed one on top of the other after cutting a large hole in the 

top of the lower barrel, and a smaller one in the bottom of the 

upper one. The latter opening 

was covered by an Inverted 

saucer. Over this we spread a 

3-inch layer of coarse sand, then 

a 2-inch layer of charcoal, a 4- 

inch layer of clear, sharp sand, 

and a 2-Inch top layer of gravel. 

The lower barrel was provided 

with a faucet, through which we 

could draw off the filtered water 

as desired. In order to keep the 

water cool we placed the filters 

In a shady place near the river, 

and piled up earth around the 

lower barrel. 

" Now, boys," said Uncle Ed, 
" form in line there, and we will 
go through a fire drill." 

He arranged us about five feet 
apart In a line extending from 

the filter to the riv^er. We had six pails, and these Dutchy 
filled one at a time, passing them up the line to Reddy, who 
emptied them Into the upper barrel and then threw them back 




Fig. 69. The Barrel Filter. 



70 



The Scientific American Boy. 




m^-'^'^'^^^fM:L:l 



Fig. 70. 
Filling the Barrel. 




to Dutchy to be refilled. Working in this way it did not take 
long to fill up the filter, and the burden of keeping the barrels 
full, instead of falling on one person, was shared alike by all. 



The Klepalo. 

Our camp outfit was further augmented by a dinner call. 
We discovered the necessity of such a call on our very first 
day of camping. Dutchy was so excited by his discoveries 
of the morning that he started out alone in the afternoon to 
make a further search. The rest of us were lazy after the 
noon meal, and were lolling around taking it easy during the 
heat of the day, and discussing plans for the future. But 
Dutchy's energetic nature would not permit him to keep 
quiet. He took the scow and waded with it against the 
strong current to the deeper and quieter water above the 



Of to the Island. yi 

island. Then he rowed a long way up stream. He was gone 
all the afternoon. Supper time came and still he didn't ap- 
pear. The sun was high, and I presume he didn't realize 
how late it was getting. Finally, just at sunset, he came 
drifting down with the current, tired and hungry, and ready 
for a large meal. But we had finished our supper an hour 
before, and poor Dutchy had to be content with a few cold 
remnants, because the cook had declared he wouldn't pre- 
pare an extra meal for a fellow who didn't have sense enough 
to know when it was meal time. 

Then it was that Uncle Ed bethought himself of the 
klepalo. 

" You ought to have some sort of a dinner call," he de- 
clared, " so that any one within a mile of camp will know 
when dinner is ready." 

" Did you ever hear of a klepalo? No? Well, I was 
down in Macedonia a couple of years ago inspecting a rail- 
road, and I stopped off for the night at a small Bulgarian 
village. The next day happened to be a Prasdnik, or 
saint's day, and the first thing in the morning I was awakened 
by a peculiar clacking sound which I couldn't make out. Call- 
ing my interpreter I found out from hint that it was a klepalo 
for calling the people to church. The people there are too 
poor to afford a bell, and so in place of that they use a beam 
of oak hung from a rope tied about the center, and this beam 
is struck with a hammer, first on one side, and then the other. 
Sometimes an iron klepalo is used as well, and then they 
strike first the beam and then the iron bar, so as to vary the 



72 



The Scientljic American Boy. 



monotony of the call. I found that the wooden klepalo could 
be heard for a distance of about one and a half miles over 
land, and the iron one for over two miles. Now we can easily 
make a wooden klepalo for use in this camp, and then if 
Dutchy, or any of the rest of us, keep within a mile and a 
half of camp there won't be any trouble with the cook." 
So we built a klepalo, getting from Lumberville a stick of 
seasoned oak, i y^ inches thick, 6 inches wide and 4 feet long. 
A hole was drilled into the stick at the center, and by a rope 
passed through this hole the beam was suspended from a 
branch overhanging the camp. Jack, the cook, regularly 
used this crude device to call the hungry horde to meals. 




The Klepalo. 



CHAPTER VII. 



SURVEYING. 



One of the first things we did after getting fairly settled 
in our new quarters w,as to make a complete survey of Willow 
Clump Island and its immediate surroundings. Our survey- 
ing instruments were made as follows : 

The Surveying Instrument. 




Out of a I -inch board we cut a base 15 inches long and 
4 inches wide. In the center we sawed out a circular opening 
of about 3 Inches diameter and covered this at the bottom by 

a circular piece i inch ^ ---- /^' 

thick and 5 inches in 
diameter, thus forming 
a socket In which our 
compass fitted snugly. 
A hole I inch In di- 
ameter was drilled through the center of this circular piece 
to receive the pivot pin of a tripod. Across each end of the 
baseboard we secured a block 4 inches long, 2 Inches wide 
and I Inch thick. A i-inch sight hole was drilled through 
each block at Its center. A ring of cardboard, on which 

73 



Fig. 71._ 
Baseboard of the Surveying Instrument. 



74 



The Scientific American Boy. 



Uncle Ed marked with radial lines the 360 degrees of the 
circle, was placed over the compass socket, with the zero and 
180 degree marks pointing toward the sight blocks. The 
outer faces of the end blocks were now wet with mucilage 
and a hair was stretched vertically across the center of each 
sight hole. The hairs were then adjusted by 
sighting through the holes and moving the 
nearer hair sidewise until it was exactly in line 
with both the zero and the 180 degree 
marks on the card- 
board. Then a hair 
Was stretched hori- 
zontally across the 
center of each sight 
hole. Great care 
was taken to place 
the hairs at exactly the same height above the baseboard. 
To protect the hairs after they were adjusted, they were cov- 
ered with a piece of glass, which was secured in place by 
tacks driven into the wood with their heads projecting over 
the edges of the glass. 

Spirit Levels. 




Fig. 72. Sighting Blocks on the Baseboard. 



From one of his pockets Uncle Ed produced two small 
bottles, the kind used for holding homeopathic pills. These 
he filled nearly to the top with water, corked them and 
wedged them into grooves cut lengthwise in the baseboard 



Surveying. 



75 



at opposite sides of the cardboard ring. These grooves 
were filled with putty, and to make sure that the bottles were 
level with the baseboard the latter was floated on a bit of 
quiet water and the bottles were pressed down at one end or 
the other until the bubble within rested at the exact center. 



The Tripod. 



The tripod head was 
formed of a wooden disk 5 
inches in diameter, with a 
wooden pin project- 
ing from its center 
adapted to engage 
the hole in the cir- 
cular piece above 
referred to. To the 



r/f/f=>o/3 /va/- 




Fig. 73. The Tripod Head. 



bottom of the tripod head were nailed three blocks 
2 inches long and i inch square in cross-section. The 
tripod legs were made of light strips of wood, yi 
inch by i inch by 5 feet long, which we secured from 
one of the mills at Lumberville. Each leg was 
formed of two of these strips, nailed securely to- 
gether to within 20 inches of the top. At the upper 
ends the strips were spread to receive the blocks on 
the tripod head. In this position they were held by 
headless wire nails driven into the ends of the blocks 
and fitting into holes drilled in the strips. For a 



The Scientific American Boy. 

plumb line we 
tacked a cord to the 
center of the tripod 
head, and attached 
a good-sized sinker to Its 
lower end. In connection with 
this plumb line we occasionally 
used a protractor consisting of 
a semicircle of cardboard 5 
inches in diameter, on which 
the degrees of the circle 
were marked off with radi- 
ating lines, as illustrated in 
Fig. 76. By holding the 
straight edge of this pro- 
tractor against the base of 
the tripod, and noting the number of degrees between the 
90 degree mark and the plumb line, we could tell at a glance 
at what angle from the horizontal the instrument was tipped. 




Fig. 75. 
The Surveying Instrument Complete 



Fig. 76 



WY^pJlJ) 




Surveying. 



77 



Surveyor's Chain. 

We made a surveyor's chain of wire links, each 12 
inches long, instead of 7.92 inches, which is the length of a 
standard surveyor's link. The wire we used was No. 16 



/2 



Fig. 77. The Surveyor's Chain. 

galvanized iron, which was rather stiff and difficult to bend. 
In order to make all the links of exactly the same size and 
shape we used a form, around which they were bent. The 
form consisted of a i-inch board in which two ^ inch holes 
were drilled, just 1 1 ^ inches apart, measured from their 
centers. An oak pin, ^4 inch in diameter, was driven into 
each hole and projected about an inch above the board. Two 




Fig. 78. Forming the Links, 



blocks of oak were secured to the baseboard, just before each 
pin, as shown in Fig. 78. This form gave great satisfaction. 
A groove was cut in the side of one of the pins to receive the 



78 



The Scientific American Boy. 



ring of a completed link, while the wire was passed through 
this ring and bent around the peg to form the ring of the 
new link. After each link was formed it was carefully meas- 
ured, and, if too long, was shortened by flattening the rings 



/2 




Fig. 79. A Double-Ringed Link. 

endwise, or, if too short, was lengthened by pinching to- 
gether the sides of the rings. There were fifty links in our 
chain, and every tenth one was formed with a double ring 
at the end, so as to distinguish it from the rest (see Fig. 79) . 



The Surveyor's Rod. 

We completed our outfit by making 
a surveyor's rod out of a straight 
stick of wood about 6 feet long. A 
target or sighting disk was mounted 
on the stick. This disk was 6 Inches 
in diameter, and was sawed out of a 

Fig. 80. 

6-inch square board by making Cutting Out a Disk, 
straight cuts across the corners and then smoothing off the 
edge to a perfect circle with a draw-knife. The thickness of 
the disk was only 3/2 inch. At the back of the disk we fast- 
ened a block of wood with a slot cut in it to receive the rod, 
as shown in Fig. 81. To hold the disk at different heights 




surveying. 



79 







Fig. 81. 

The Sighting 

Disk. 



on the rod a small bolt was used. The nut on this bolt was 
slipped into a hole on the block at the bottom of the slot and 
held in place by driving in nails about it, as illustrated in 
Fig. 82. The bolt was then passed through 
the hole and threaded through the nut, with 
its inner end bearing against the rod. The 
disk could thus be held at any desired posi- 
tion by tightening up the bolt. A piece of 
white paper was now pasted over the disk. 
The paper was marked off into quarters, 
and opposite quarters were 
painted black so that it would 
be easy to sight, from a distance, the exact center 
of the target. 

A Simple Method of Survejnng. 

Fig. 82. 

Of course, none of us had studied trigonometry, Nut 
but Uncle Ed devised a very simple method by bLcJc. 
which we could determine distances quite accurately without 
much figuring. 

** If you will tell me the length of one side of a triangle and 
the angles it makes with the other two sides," said Uncle Ed, 
" I'll tell you the length of the other two sides and the size 
of the third angle. This is how I will do it : 

" Say the line is 6 inches long and one angle is 35 degrees, 
while the other is 1 17 degrees. Let us draw a 6-inch straight 
line. This we will call our base line. Now we will place the 




8o 



The Scientific American Boy. 



base edge of our protractor on the base line with Its center at 
the right hand end of the line. At the 37 degree mark we 
will make a dot on the paper so, and draw a line from the 
right hand end of the base line through this dot. Now we 
will do the same thing at the opposite end, making a dot at 

•i^- —^R- '^, 107 degrees from the line, and draw 

line from the left hand end of 

the base line through this dot. 

If we extend these lines 

until they intersect, 

'-•^^ we will have 

^v^ the required 




Fig. 83. Diagram of Our First Lesson in Surveying. 



triangle, and can measure the two sides, which will be 
found to be about 12 inches and 8 inches long, and the third 
angle will measure just 26 degrees. It doesn't make any 
difference on what scale we draw the triangle, whether it be 
miles, yards, feet, inches or fractions of an inch, the propor- 
tions will be the same. If the base line had been 6 half- 
inches, or 3 inches long, and the same angles were used, the 
other two lines would measure 12 half-inches, or six inches, 
and 8 half-inches, or 4 inches. If the base line were 6 quarter- 
inches long, the sides would be 3 inches and 2 inches long. 



Surveying. 8i 

" Now, for example, I am going to measure the distance 
to that tree over there. Get out your chain and measure off 
a straight line lo feet long. Now, I'll set the surveying 
instrument with the plumb-bob right over the end of this 
line, and sight through the two sight holes until I bring the 
two vertical hairs in line with each other and the tree. Look 
at the compass needle. It points to the 173 degree mark on 
the cardboard ring. Now, Bill, you hold the rod at the other 
end of our base line while I swing this instrument around 
and sight it. There, the needle points to 92 degrees, and 
subtracting this from 173 the difference, 81 degrees, is the 
angle at the right end of our base line. We'll do the same 
thing at the other end of our line. See, the compass needle 
points to 189 degrees, and now sighting to the pole at the 
other end of the line we find that the needle points to 268. 
The difference, 79 degrees, is therefore the size of the angle 
at the left end of our base line. Now we will draw this out 
on paper, as we did our first triangle, using quarter-inches to 
represent feet. Our base line was 10 feet long, and we will 
therefore draw a line 10 quarter-inches, or 23/2 inches long, 
on our drawing board. On this line we will construct the 
triangle, using the angles 8 1 and 79 degrees. There, that's 
how our triangle looks, and the right hand side measures 
7 34 inches, while the left hand side measures 75-16 inches. 
That is, 29 quarter-inches for one side and 2934 quarter- 
inches for the other. As each quarter-inch represents a foot, 
you will find that the tree is about 29 feet from the right 
end of our base line and 29 feet 3 Inches from the left hand 



The Scientific American Boy. 



__^ ^-g. M 2 r Z^'S-"' "-. 




Fig. 84. Determining the Distance to the Tree, 

end. Of course, our instrument is not perfect, neither is our 
drawing; but if you measure it off with the chain you will 
see that I am not very far from correct." 



Mapping the Island. 

Most of our surveying was done by actual measurement, 
the surveying instrument being used only to determine the 
exact direction of the measurement. However, there were 
some measurements which we could not make directly with 
the chain. For example, we wished to know just how far it 
was from our tent to the Jersey shore of the river. We 
measured off a base line along our shore 400 feet long and 
sighted to a point directly across the river from our tent. 
The angle in front of our tent was 90 degrees, and at the 



Surveying. 83 

other end of the base line was 73 degrees. When we drew 
out our triangle on the scale of 100 feet to the Inch we found 
that the shorter side directly In front of the tent was almost 
exactly 13 inches long. This meant that the river at this 
point was 1,300 feet wide, nearly a quarter of a mile. On 
the other side of the Island we found, in the same way, that 
the river at Its narrowest point was about 500 feet wide. 
This portion of the river we named Lake Placid, as the water 
was very still and quite deep. This was due to a sort of 
natural dam formed at the lower end of our Island. The 
small Island that Dutchy found was kite-shaped, with a tail 
of boulders which extended almost all the way across to a 
rocky point on the Pennsylvania shore. The channel be- 
tween " Kite Island," as we called it, and Willow Clump 
Island was not more than fifteen feet wide In some places, 
and through this the water swept with a swift current down 
past a narrow neck of land to join the main current. This 
narrow stretch of land we named the Tiger's Tail, owing to 
its peculiar shape. It was in the hook at the end of this tail 
that we discovered the old bridge wreck above referred to. 
From the tip of the Tiger's Tail to Point Lookout, at the ex- 
treme upper end of Willow Clump Island, it was a little under 
a half-mile. The shore all along Lake Placid was very 
steep, except near Point Lookout. At one place there was 
a shallow bay which we called the lagoon. 



[CHAPTER VIII. 



SWIMMING. 



Lake Placid was a favorite swimming place for us. We 
used to plunge in from the branches of a tree which over- 
hung the water a little ways above the lagoon and made a 
natural springboard. We could all swim like ducks, except 
Dutchy, who couldn't do anything but paddle. However, 
Uncle Ed was an expert, and he took Dutchy in hand and 
soon made a pretty good swimmer out of him. He also 
taught us some fancy strokes. Of course I took no record 




Fig. 85. The Diving Tree. 
84 



Swimming. 85 

of these lessons. You would hardly expect me to sit on the 
bank with a book in hand jotting down notes while the rest 
were splashing around in the cool water having the best of 
fun in the world, and even if I had, I wouldn't republish the 
notes here, because whoever heard of a boy learning to swim 
while reading a book on the subject? A beginner had better 
leave books alone and plunge right into the water. He will 
soon learn to keep himself afloat and can then practise any 
fancy strokes that he sees others try. Then, again, don't try 
to learn in shallow water, because you will never do it. Of 
course it doesn't pay to jump into water that is over your 
head unless there is a good swimmer near by to help you out. 
But you will never learn to swim until you have become 
accustomed to putting your head under water. You can 
not swim with a dry face. The first time we went swimming, 
we couldn't persuade Dutchy to try it. The water was deep 
right up to the very bank and he had never been in over his 
head. Instead he sat up in the diving tree swinging his 
feet and trying to hide the fact that he was having a dull 
time. 

" Say, we've got to douse that fellow," said Reddy. 

"You're right; he needs a wash," said Jim. "Let's 
sneak up behind him and chuck him in." 

They landed a little ways up the stream behind a large 
bush and then crept down stealthily on their victim. But 
Dutchy had his suspicions aroused and saw them coming. 
He scrambled out of the tree in a jiffy and tore off into the 
woods as fast as his legs could carry him. 



86 



The Scientific American Boy. 



Swimming on a Plank. 

We didn't expect to see him again that afternoon, for the 
pace he was leading should have carried him miles in no time; 
but while he couldn't swim, Dutchy had his own ideas of fun 
on the water. It was about twenty minutes later that we 
saw him coming down-stream lying full length on one of 
the 2-inch planks taken from the bridge wreck. He was 
paddling himself along with arms and legs hung over the 




Fig. 86. Swimming on a Plank. 



sides of the plank. We all gave him a cheer, and then 
started out to have some fun with him. We tried to pull 
him off his raft, but he stuck on like a leech. It was only 
when we made his craft turn turtle that Dutchy got his head 
under water. But it wasn't a moment before he scrambled 
back on top again, gasping and sputtering to get the water 
out of his nose and mouth. 

Uncle Ed all this time had been sunning himself on the 



Swimming. 8 7 

bank, when suddenly he uttered a shout of warning. We 
were right at the mouth of the mill-race. For the moment 
we forgot about Dutchy, and swam out for shore. Before 
we realized it Dutchy was caught in the current, and was 
being swept full tilt down the stream. My but wasn't he 
scared. I can see him yet clinging for dear life to the plank, 
his face the color of ashes and his eyes bulging out in terror. 
First he tried to make for the bank, but the water was so 
swift that when the front end of the board struck land the 
rear end swung around in a circle, carrying him on again, 
but backward this time, before we could reach him. Two 
or three more times the plank struck the bank and turned 
him around, while we raced along the high bank, scrambling 
down to catch him every time he headed for shore, but each 
time just missing him. Then he swung out past the Tiger's 
Tail Into the open river just above the rapids. Fortunately 
he was going along headforemost this time, and Uncle Ed, 
who had just arrived, panting and breathless, from running, 
shouted to him to keep his head and steer for a narrow 
opening between two jutting boulders. I don't know 
whether Dutchy did any steering or not, but the raft shot 
straight through the opening, and was lost in a cloud of 
spray. In a moment he reappeared below the rapids, 
paddling like mad for a neck of land on the Pennsylvania 
side of the river. 

Dutchy would never own up that he was afraid. He 
never told a lie under other circumstances, but when it came 
to a question of courage he had the habit of stretching facts 



88 The Scientific American Boy. 

to the very limit. Even in this case, he said that he started 
out with the idea of shooting the rapids, and if we hadn't 
flustered him so, he would not have bumped into the bank 
and turned about so many times. Dutchy was a very 
glib talker. He nearly persuaded us that it was all done 
intentionally, and his thrilling account of the wild dash 
between the rocks and through the shower of spray stirred 
us up so that we all had to try the trick too. 

Shooting the Rapids. 

The next day, while Uncle Ed was taking a nap, we stole 
off to the upper end of Lake Placid, each one towing a plank. 
We needn't have been so afraid of Uncle Ed, for we found 
out later that he intended to try a plank ride through the 
rapids himself next time he went in swimming. Down Lake 
Placid we paddled in single column to the mill-race. In a 
moment the current had caught us and we were off. I shall 
never forget the thrilling ride down the swirling mill-race, 
the sudden pause as we shot out Into the open river, the 
plunge between the boulders and the dive through the spray. 
It was all over too soon. Something like coasting — whiz, 
whiz-z-z, and a half-mile walk. Were It not for the trouble 
of hauling the planks back by the roundabout course along 
the Pennsy shore we would have thought shooting the rapids 
a capital game. 



Swimming. 89 

Restoring the Drowned. 

It was on the second day after Dutchy's exploit of the 
rapids that Bill came so near drowning. He probably 
would have drowned if Uncle Ed hadn't been on hand to 
work over him. Bill was a fine swimmer, but even the best 
of swimmers will sometimes get a cramp, so it is never safe 
for any one to go into the water without some one at hand 
to help him out in case of accident. In the present case Bill 
was doing some fancy strokes by himself over near the 
Pennsy shore, while the rest of us were watching Uncle Ed 
give Dutchy a lesson in swimming. All of a sudden Bill 
threw up his hands and sank. I happened to glance up as 
he did it. We thought he was fooling at first, but soon made 
out that he was in genuine trouble. Uncle Ed dropped 
Dutchy to my tender care, and raced over with a powerful 
stroke to the spot where he had last seen his nephew. He 
failed to find him on the first dive, but the second time was 
successful and he carried the lifeless body to the Pennsylvania 

shore. In the meantime I had 
landed Dutchy and with the rest 
of the boys had crossed the lake. 
Uncle Ed first laid Bill on 
his back and hastily wiped 
dry the mouth and nostrils. 
Then he pried his jaws 

Fig. 87. Pressiner the Water out , i_ 1 i- ^1 

of the Stomach. apart, holdmg them open 




90 



The Scientific American Boy. 



with a piece of wood wedged in between the teeth. After 
which he turned him on his face over a log which was placed 
under his stomach. By stomach I do not mean the bowels, 
but the real stomach, which lies just under the ribs in front. 
Then he pressed with a good weight on the back directly 
over the log for nearly a minute, causing the water to flow 
out of the mouth. Dutchy had by this time rowed across in 
the scow, in which fortunately there happened to be some of 
Uncle Ed's clothing. This he took and rolled into a bundle, 




Fig. 88. Expanding the Chest. 

then Bill was laid on his back over the roll of clothing, 
which was arranged to raise the pit of his stomach above the 
rest of his body. Uncle Ed now wrapped a handkerchief 
around his forefinger, and with it wiped out Bill's mouth 
and throat. Reddy, who was the least excited of the lot, 
was told to draw Bill's tongue forward so as to prevent it 
from falling back and choking the windpipe. This he did 
with the dry part of the handkerchief, drawing the end of the 
tongue out at the corner of the mouth, and holding it there 
while Uncle Ed and I started the pumping action, which 



Swimming. 



91 



produced artificial respiration. I was directed to grasp Bill's 
arms just below the elbows, and swing them vertically in 
an arc until the hands met the ground again above the head. 
This expanded the chest. Uncle Ed at the same time stood 
over the body with his elbows on his knees and hands ex- 
tended, as illustrated in Fig. 88. Then I swung the arms 
up and back to the sides of the body, but just before the 
hands touched the ground Uncle Ed seized the body in both 
hands just below the ribs, and as soon as I touched the arms 

to the ground he 



swung forward with 
all his weight on his 
hands, squeez- 
ing the waist 
and pushing 
upward so as 
to force out 




Fig. 89. Squeezing out the Air from the Lungs. 



the air in the chest. Then he slowly counted, one, two, 
three, four, all the time steadily increasing the pressure, 
until at the signal four, with a final push, he shoved him- 
self to the first position, shown In Fig. 88. At the same 
signal I drew the arms up again over the head, and held 
them there while Uncle Ed again counted four; then I re- 
turned the arms to the sides, and Uncle Ed repeated the 
squeezing process. These movements were continued for 
about three minutes, and then Bill gave a short, faint gasp. 
We kept on with the artificial respiration, assisting the gasps, 
which gradually grew stronger, until they had deepened Into 



92 The Scientific American Boy. 

steady breathing. Then we stripped off the wet bathing suit, 
and wrapping Bill in Uncle Ed's clothing, laid him in the 
bottom of the boat. While Dutchy hurried the boat across, 
Uncle Ed rubbed the patient's arms and legs. The rest of 
us swam over and ran for blankets from the tent. Bill was 
wrapped in one of the blankets and the other was used as a 
stretcher, on which we carried him to the tent. Then one of 
us was sent post-haste across to Lumberville for some 
whiskey, which was diluted in hot water and given the patient 
a teaspoonful at a dose, every fifteen minutes at first, and then 
at less frequent intervals. Uncle Ed kept Bill in bed all 
the next day for fear of congestion of the lungs. He told 
us that unless the patient kept perfectly quiet for a couple 
of days, he was liable to be seized with a sudden attack of 
hard breathing that might choke him to death in a short 
time. To stop such an attack he told us that the best plan 
was to apply a mustard plaster to the chest, and if the patient 
commenced to gasp, to start pumping the arms and squeezing 
the waist so as to help him breathe. After Bill had come 
around and was himself again Uncle Ed gave us a thorough 
drill in methods of restoring the drowned. He laid down on 
the grass and made us practise on him the various directions 
which he gave us. 

How to Work Over a Patient Alone. 

" If you boys hadn't been so excited," he said, *' I would 
have made you rub Bill's body and limbs while we were 
pumping the air into him, but I knew you would get In the 



Swimming. 



93 




way, and be more of a bother than a help. You must learn 
to be calm In any accident; excitement doesn't pay. Keep 
steadily and slowly at your pumping, for you might have to 
do it for four hours before the patient comes to." He taught 
us just how to swing the arms and squeeze the ribs to best ad- 
vantage, and how to hold the tongue without getting in the 
way of the arms as they were pumped back and forth. There 
was also a special way of rubbing the arms and legs. The 

limbs were always rubbed upward, 

or toward the body, with the bare 

hands, or a dry cloth if there was 

one at hand, 

12! 



but this all had 
to be done 
without inter- 
fering with the 
pumping ac- 
tion. " If the patient doesn't come around in five minutes," 
he said, " turn him on his face again over the roll of clothing, 
or any other suitable substitute, and press out the water from 
the stomach, rolling him first to one side and then to the 
other; be sure to get all the water out." When we had 
learned our lesson well. Uncle Ed took Dutchy for his 
patient, and proceeded to show us how a man could work 
over him alone. First he went through the operation of 
squeezing the water out of him, and drying his nose and 
mouth, much to the patient's discomfort; then he drew 
Dutchy's tongue out of the corner of his mouth, holding it 




Fig. 90. Working alone over a Patient. 



94 The Scientific American Boy. 

there by closing the jaws on it, and holding the jaws together 
by passing a handkerchief over his chin and lapping it over 
his head. After that he began to pump, seizing the patient's 
arms and swinging them up over the head and back, as be- 
fore. Just as the arms were dropped back to the sides of 
the body, he squeezed them in against the ribs, at the same 
time drawing upward toward the head and counting four 
each time, as he had done before. But the lesson was 
abruptly interrupted by Dutchy, whose imagination was 
worked up to such a pitch that I actually believe he thought 
he had been drowning. Anyway, he squirmed out of Uncle 
Ed's grasp, and wouldn't play patient any longer. For 
several days after that we couldn't persuade him to venture 
near deep water. 



CHAPTER IX. 



BRIDGE BUILDING. 



Willow Clump Island was, for the most part, a track- 
less wilderness, and as soon as we had made our map we laid 
out roads to the different important points. Our main high- 
way ran from Point Lookout to Tiger's Tail. This road 
was made rather winding, to add to its picturesqueness, and 
from it a number of shorter roads branched off. 



Spar Bridge. 

We ran a bridge across the mill-race at its narrowest point. 
This bridge was made of trees which we had cut down in 
making our road. It was quite a piece of engineering, built 
under Uncle Ed's guidance. Two frames were made of the 
shape shown in Figs. 91 and 92. The side sticks were 
15 feet long and spaced about 10 feet apart at the base by 
crosspieces. At the upper end one frame was made 6 feet 
wide and the other 5 feet wide. The side and cross spars 
were mortised together and secured by lashing a rope around 
them. To make the frames more rigid we braced them with 
diagonal braces nailed on. When completed we set the 
frames up on opposite sides of the stream and with ropes 

95 



Ljb The Scientific American Boy. 



3 1 




Figs. 91 and 92. Frames for the Spar Bridge. 









\.^^ 




Fig 93. The Spar Bridge. 



Bridge Building. 



97 



carefully lowered their upper ends until they interlocked, the 
side spars of each frame resting on the cross spars of the 
other. In the angles formed by the crossing side spars 
a center spar was laid, and a number of floor beams or spars 
were stretched to this from the opposite shores. On these a 
flooring was spread made of saplings, cut and trimmed to 
the right size. A rustic railing on each side of the bridge 
completed the structure. 

The Rope Railway. 



The mill-race was crossed further 
down by a rope line on which we rigged 
a traveling carriage. A light manila 
rope was used, anchored to a tree 
at each side about fifteen feet from 
the ground. A pulley block 
with a wheel or sheave 4 inches 
in diameter was mounted to 
travel on the rope. Suspended 
Fig. 94. The Swing Seat. f j.^^ ^his bio^k by means of fall 

and tackle was a swing seat. This, 

as shown in Fig. 94, was merely a 

board fastened with four rope strands 

to the ring of the tackle block. A 

single rope was used, with the ends ' 

tied firmly together. The loop thus Fig. 95. 

r 1 J , 1 I.I- Tyine: the Ropes to the 

formed was passed through the rmg seat. 





98 



The Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 96. The Rope Railway. 



Bridge Building. 99 

of the tackle block and the opposite ends were twisted over 
the ends of the seat board In the manner illustrated in Fig. 
95. The tackle blocks were quite small, having 2-inch 
sheaves, and they, together with the large pulley or " travel- 
ing block," as we called it, cost us about $2.50. Two light 
ropes were fastened to the large traveling block, each rope 
long enough to reach across the stream. The ropes ex- 
tended to opposite anchorages, where each was passed over 
a branch of the tree and belayed on a cleat within easy reach. 
A fellow could draw himself up clear of the ground by pull- 
ing on the free end of the fall, as a painter does ; then tying 
the swing fast in this position, he would pull himself across 
the stream by means of the rope stretched to the opposite 
anchorage. The swing could be drawn back by the next 
one who wanted to cross. We also used this aerial line for 
transporting loads from one island to the other. 



Suspension Bridge. 

Our aerial railway didn't last 
long. We soon tired of it, and 

, ... , , • 1 /• ^'S- 97, Barrel-stave Flooring. 

mstead utilized the materials for 

a rope suspension bridge. We procured from Lumberville 
half a dozen old barrels and used the staves as a flooring for 
the bridge. The staves were linked together by a pair of 
ropes at each end woven over and under, as indicated in the 
drawing Fig. 97. Notches were cut in the staves to hold 
the ropes from slipping off. The flexible flooring thus con- 




tOf 



c. 



lOO 



The Scientific American Boy. 



structed was stretched across the river and secured to stakes 
driven firmly in the ground. A pair of parallel ropes were 
extended across the stream about three feet above the floor- 
ing, with which they were connected at intervals of five feet. 

The bridge was 25 feet long, 
and while rather shaky, owing 
to the fact that there were 
no braces to prevent It from 
swaying sidewise, still It 
was very strong and did ex- 
cellent service. 




Fig. 98. The Suspension Bridge. 



Bridge Building. 



lOl 



Pontoon Bridge. 

At the head of the mill-race, where the channel was fifty 
feet wide, we built a pontoon bridge. We were fortunate 
in securing six good cider barrels at low cost, also a quantity 
of " slabs " from one of the sawmills of Lumberville. 




Fig. 99. The Pontoon Bridge. 



" Slab " is the lumberman's name for the outside piece of a 
log which is sawn off in squaring up the sides. We made a 
raft of these materials and floated them down the river to 
Lake Placid. The bridge was made by anchoring the barrels 
in the channel about eight feet apart, and laying on them the 
floor beams, which supported a flooring of slabs. The floor 
beams were narrow planks i inch by 4 inches, taken from 



I02 The Scientific American Boy. 

the bridge wreck, and they were placed on edge to prevent 
sagging. Of course we had no anchors for securing the 
barrels, but used instead large stones weighing about lOO 
pounds each, around which the anchor lines were fastened. 
We found it rather difficult to sink these improvised anchors 
at just the right places, for we were working at the very 
mouth of the mill-race, and were in constant danger of having 
our scow sucked down into the swirling channel. Once we 
were actually drawn into the mill-race and tore madly down 
the rushing stream. By Bill's careful steering we managed 
to avoid striking the shore, and just as we were off the 
Tiger's Tail Reddy succeeded in swinging a rope around an 
overhanging limb and bringing us to a sudden stop. A 
moment later we might have been dashed against the rocks 
in the rapids below and our boat smashed. Shooting rapids 
in a scow is a very different matter from riding through them 
on a plank. 

The King Rod Truss. 

Our bridge building operations were not entirely confined 
to the island. Two of them were built on the Schreiner 
grounds at Lamington. Reddy Schreiner's home was sit- 
uated a little distance above the town where Cedar Brook 
came tumbling down a gorge in the hills and spread out into 
the Schreiners' ice pond. Thence it pursued its course very 
quietly through the low and somewhat swampy ground in 
the Schreiners' back yard. Over this brook Reddy was very 



Bridge Building. 



103 



anxious to build a bridge. Accordingly, before returning to 
school in the fall Bill made out a careful set of plans for 
the structure, and after we had gone the rest of the society, 
under Reddy's guidance, erected the bridge. 

The structure was a cross between a suspension bridge ana 
a spar bridge. The banks of the stream were so low that, 
instead of resting the floor of the bridge on top of the in- 
clined frames, as we had done over the mill-race, it was 
suspended from the spars by means of wires. The crossing 




Fig. 100. The King Rod Bridge. 

ends of the spars were nailed together and their lower ends 
were firmly planted about four feet apart in the banks of the 
brook. A stick nailed to the apex of each pair of spars 
served temporarily to brace them apart. The center cross 
beam of the bridge was now suspended from the spars by 
means of heavy galvanized iron wire (No. 14, I should say) . 
The beam was hung high enough to allow for stretch of the 
wire, making the roadway incline upward from both sides 
to the center. Aside from carrying the floor of the bridge, 



I04 The Scientific American Boy. 

this beam was used to brace the inclined spars when the 
temporary crosspiece was removed. The ends of the beam 
projected about thirty inches beyond the bridge at each 
side, and they supported braces which extended diagonally 
upward to the crossing ends of the spars. When this was 
done the temporary crosspiece above referred to was re- 
moved. As the span between the center cross beam and the 
banks was a little too long to provide a steady floor, a couple 
of intermediate cross beams were suspended from the in- 
clined spars. The floor beams were then laid in place and 
covered with a flooring of slabs. 

Stiffening the Bridge. 

The bridge was a pretty good one, except for a slight un- 
steadiness between the center and either end. When Uncle 
Ed saw it he showed us at once where the trouble lay. Our 
intermediate cross beams were hung from the center of the 
spars, and consequently made them bend, because the strain 
came across their length, while at the center of the bridge 
there was no chance for the spars to bend, because the strain 
was exerted along their length, that is, it tended merely to 
push the ends of the spars deeper into the banks. To remedy 
the trouble he proposed propping up the center of each spar 
with a brace running from the center crosspiece. The dotted 
lines in Fig. lOO show how these braces were applied. They 
made the floor perfectly solid throughout, and gave the 
bridge a much better appearance. Uncle Ed told us that the 



Bridge Building. 105 

structure might be called a " king rod truss," except that 
in place of rods we had used wires. 



The King Post Bridge. 

The other bridge on the Schreiner property was built in 
the following summer, just before we started on our second 
expedition to Willow Clump Island. It spanned the brook 
at the gorge, and was therefore a more difficult engineering 
feat. Mr. Schreiner himself asked us to build It, and we 
felt greatly honored by the request. A search was made in 
the Van Syckel library for a suitable type. At last we found 
one that seemed properly suited to the requirements. It was 
called a " king post truss," and was very similar to the king 
rod bridge. While the design of the bridge was simple, yet 
it required some ingenuity to put it together. In setting up 
the other bridge the scow had been anchored in the center 
of the stream and used as a working platform, from which it 
had been an easy matter to put the various parts together. 
In this case our scow was obviously of no use, so we laid a 
couple of long logs across the chasm, and a few slats were 
nailed across them to provide a temporary bridge or working 
platform. The platform sagged considerably at the center, 
because the span was fully eighteen feet; but the logs were 
large, and we knew they were strong enough to support our 
weight. However, as an extra precaution, we tied the ends 
to stakes driven in the ground, so that they could not possibly 
slip off the banks. 



io6 



The Scientific American Boy. 



First we set about constructing the king posts, which were 
made as shown In Fig. loi. Two stout posts 7 feet long 
were connected at the top by a tie stick, which spaced them 
4 feet apart. To make a secure fastening they were notched 
together and strengthened with diagonal braces. Each king 
post was notched on opposite sides, at about thirty inches 

from the top. A temporary 
tie piece was also nailed 
across the lower ends of the 
king posts. The frame 
thus formed was set up at 
the center of the span and 
temporarily held by nailing 
the lower tie piece to the 
working platform. Four 
stout spars were now cut, 
each about fifteen feet long. 
Taking a pair at a time, we 
planted their lower ends 
firmly in the opposite banks 
and sawed off their upper 
ends until they could just be hammered into the notches in 
the king post. This required careful fitting, but by making 
the spars a little too long to start with, and then shaving 
them down with a draw-knife, we managed to make fairly 
good joints. A couple of long wire nails in each spar made 
the structure perfectly secure. The king posts were now 
sawed off just above the temporary tie piece, and the 




Fig. 101. 
The King Post Frame. 



Bridge Building. 



107 




Fig. 102. The King Posts Set in Position. 



permanent cross beam was fastened to these ends with straps 
of heavy wire wound tightly about them. The working plat- 
form sagged so much that we were able to lay this cross 
beam above it. From the ends of the cross beam diagonal 




Fig. 103. The Permanent Cross Beam Made Fast. 



io8 The Scientific American Boy. 

braces extended to the king posts (Fig. 103). Our working 
platform was now removed and replaced with the permanent 
floor beams, which were firmly nailed to the center cross 
beam and to the inclined spars at the shore ends. The floor 
beams were quite heavy and needed no support between the 
king posts and shore. A rustic floor was made of small logs 
sawed in two at Mr. Schreiner's sawmill. Light poles were 
nailed to the flooring along each edge, giving a finish to the 
bridge. We also provided a rustic railing for the bridge of 
light poles nailed to the king posts and the diagonal spars. 



CHAPTER X. 



Canvas Canoes. 



Like all inhabitants of islands, we early turned our atten- 
tion to navigation. Our scow was serviceable for transport- 
ing materials back and forth across the strips of shallow 
water between our quarters and the Jersey shore. We never 
attempted to row across, because progress would have been 
entirely too slow, and we would have drifted down to the 
rapids long ere we could reach the opposite side. But on Lake 
Placid matters were different. Although there was no settle- 
ment near us on the Pennsylvania shore, to occasion our 
crossing the water for provisions and the like, yet the quiet 
stretch was admirably suited to boating for pleasure, and 
mighty little pleasure could we get out of our heavy scow. 

Uncle Ed's Departure. 

Owing to a sudden business call Uncle Ed left us after he 

had been with us nearly three weeks. But, before going, he 

explained carefully to Bill just how to construct a canvas 

canoe. Jack, the cook, who was anxious to lay in a second 

supply of provisions, accompanied Uncle Ed as far as Mill- 

ville, the next town below Lamington. Here Uncle Ed 

109 



no The Scientific American Boy. 

bought five yards of canvas, 42 inches wide, several cans of 
paint and a quantity of brass and copper nails and tacks. 
These supplies, together with the food provisions that Jack 
had collected, were brought to us late in the afternoon by 
Mr. Schreiner. Mr. Schreiner also brought the necessary 
boards and strips of wood for the framework of our canoe. 



A Visit from Mr. Schreiner. 

We invited Mr. Schreiner to spend the night with us, and 
this he did after fording with some difficulty the swift-run- 
ning river. In the morning we showed him our quarters, our 
filter, the roads we had built, the spar bridge across to Kite 
Island, our surveying instrument and the chart we had made 
of the vicinity. He was greatly pleased with our work, and 
it was then that he gave us an order for the bridge over the 
gorge. From that day on he became our staunchest ally, so 
that when my father and Mr. Van Syckel complained that 
we were loafing away a lot of time which could be more 
profitably spent in study or work, Mr. Schreiner stood up 
for us and declared that our experiences on the island were 
doing us far more good, both physically and mentally, than 
any other work that they could conceive of; that before con- 
demning us they should pay us a visit and see how we were 
employing our time. 



Canvas Canoes. 



Ill 



0£c/< ee/iM 



The Sailing Canoe. 

Immediately after Mr. Schreiner's departure we started 
work on the canoe. A strip of spruce i inch thick, 3 inches 
wide and 1 2 feet long served as the keelson. At the stern a 
post lYz inches thick, 3 inches wide and 13 inches high was 
secured to the keel- 
son with brass 
screws. This was 
braced as indicated 
in Fig. 104. At the 
bow a stem piece 
was attached to the 
keelson. This stem was cut to a somewhat semicircular form, 
as shown in Fig. 105. The outer edge was tapered with a 
draw-knife to a thickness of ^ inch and a brace was nailed 




^<^^£X. JOA^ 



Fig. 104. Stem Post of the Canoe. 




Fig. 105. Stem of the Canoe. 



to the inner edge. Our next work was to cut out three 
forms, one of the shape shown in Fig. 106 and two like 
that shown In Fig. 107. The first form was set up on the 



I 12 



The Scientific American Boy. 



keelson midway between the stem and stern, and the other 
two were spaced about four feet each side of the center 
form. The center form was used only for shaping the 
frame of the boat, and was not intended to be permanently 
affixed to the canoe. Therefore, we fastened it to the keelson 
very lightly, so that it could be readily removed. The other 



^^ 




Fig. 106. Center Form. 



/^"---, 




Fig. 107. Bulkheads. 



two forms, however, were made permanent parts of the 
frame, serving as bulkheads. The gunwales were now se- 
cured in position. These were of spruce % inch thick and 2 
inches wide. The ends were beveled off so as to neatly fit the 
stem piece and the stern post, to which they were fastened 
by brass screws. Then we applied the longitudinal strips, or 
rib bands, which were of ^-inch thick spruce i inch wide. 
Ten of these bands were used, equally spaced apart on the 
center form, to which they were lightly tacked ; but they were 
nailed securely to the bulkheads and the stem piece and stern 
post. The cross ribs were made of barrel hoops which we 
had soaked in water for a day or so to render them pliable 
enough to be bent into place. These hoops were split to a 



Canvas Canoes. 



"3 




Fig. 108. Center Braces. 



width of 3/2 inch, and secured 

first to the keelson, then to the 

longitudinal strips and finally to 

the gunwales. Copper tacks 

were used for nailing the ribs in 

place, and these were long enough to be passed through the 

rib bands and clinched on the outside. Forty cross ribs were 

nailed on, and at the 

center of the canoe 

they were spaced about 

three inches apart. The 

center form was then 

removed and cut along 

the dotted lines shown 

in Fig. 106. The 

semicircular pieces 

thus obtained were 

now strengthened with 

strips on their inner 

edges, and wedged in 

between the keelson 

and the gunwales, to 

which they were 

nailed, as shown in 

Fig. 108. A pair of 

cleats nailed to the 

cross ribs served as 

supports for the seat 







114 



The Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 111. Lacing the Canvas on the Frame. 



of the canoe. The frame of the boat was completed by 
nailing in place two deck beams of ^'^-inch square pine and 
four corner pieces between the gunwales and the bulkheads, 
so as to make an elliptical well hole or deck opening. Before 
laying on the canvas covering the edges of the gunwales, 
keelson, deck beams, stem and stern posts were smoothed 
down with sandpaper. 

Stretching on the Canvas. 

The frame was laid in the center of the canvas and the 
latter drawn around it. Then with a large needle and strong 
twine we sewed both edges of the cloth together with long 
stitches, lacing the canvas over the frame as a shoe is laced 
over a foot. This done, the boat was turned deck downward 
and the canvas was tacked to the keelson. In each case, 




car par 



GorroAT or. c/fA'o£ yy/r/^ c/^'A^y^/fs rifc/c^/a oa^ 
Fig. 112. Tacking the Canvas to the Keel. 



Canvas Canoes. 



115 



before driving in a tack a daub of white lead was applied, to 
water-proof the spot. At the stem and stern a gore (narrow 
triangular piece) was cut out of the canvas so as to make it 
lie smooth on the frame, and white lead was painted In be- 
tween the overlapping edges. The canoe was then turned 
deck upward and the lacing tightened, while we carefully 
worked out all wrinkles in the cloth. After tacking the 
canvas along the gunwales on the outside, it was trimmed off, 
leaving sufficient margin to be brought over the gunwales 
and tacked Inside. Two triangular pieces were cut out for 
the decks, and these were lapped over the outer canvas and 
tacked to the gunwales. A narrow molding along the edge 
of the boat served to cover the tack heads and added a cer- 
tain finish to the canoe. A keel plate 2 inches wide and i 
inch thick was attached to the outside of the boat, and then, 
after wetting the canvas. It was given a coat of white lead 
and oil. When this was perfectly dry it was sandpapered 
and the second coat applied. 



Fig. 113. 
The Rudder. 



The Rudder. 

The canoe was now com- 
plete except for the rudder, 
which was cut from a 3^ -inch 
board to about the shape 
shown in Fig. 1 14. Strips i ^ inches wide and 
3/2 Inch thick were nailed to each side of the 
blade, forming a post, to the top of which a 




ii6 



The Scientific American Boy. 



crosspiece or tiller was fastened. A cleat nailed to the pillar 
at each side of the rudder post served to greatly strengthen 
the joint. The rudder was hinged to the canoe by a rod, 
which passed through four brass screw 
eyes, two threaded into the rudder and 
a corresponding pair screwed into the 
stern. For convenience in steering we 
ran our tiller rope clear around the 
boat, through screw eyes in the gun- 
wales and a pulley at the stem, so that the steersman could 
guide his craft from any point in the canoe. 




The Rudder Hinge 



The Deep Keel. 




Fig. 115. Bottom of Canoe, Showing Deep Keel. 




Fig. 116. 

End View, 

Showing Deep 

Keel. 



We planned to use our 
canoe as a sailboat, and 
had to provide a deep keel, 
which, for convenience, was 
made detachable. This keel 
was 6 inches wide, ^^ inch 
thick and 6 feet long, and 
was fastened at the center 



Canvas Canoes. 



117 



of the canoe. Screw eyes about twelve inches apart were 
threaded alternately into opposite sides of the keel plate. 
Corresponding hooks were attached to the keel in position to 
hook into the screw eyes, and thus hold the keel firmly in 
place. 

Canoe Sails. 



Our boat was fitted with two masts, a 
mainmast and a mizzen or dandy mast. 
The former was 6 feet long and the latter 
4 feet long, and each measured i ^2 
inches in diameter at the base, taper- 
ing to about I inch diameter at the 
upper end. They were held in brass 
bands, or clamps, bent around them 
and secured to the bulkheads, as shown 
in Fig. 117. The sails were of the 
lanteen type. 




Cl.flMP 



Fig. 117. The Mast Step 




The mainsail measured 8^ feet along 

the boom, 93/2 feet along the yard 

and 10 feet at the leach. The 

dimensions of the mizzen sail 

were : along the boom, 5 feet ; 

along the yard, 53/2 

feet; and at the leach, 

6 feet. The boom was 

attached to a strap of k- 3'6' 

leather on the mast, Fig. 118. The Mainsail. 



ii8 



The Scientific American Boy. 



and was thus given freedom to swing around in any desired 
position. The yard was similarly attached, and was raised 
by a cord, which passed through pulleys 
at the top and at the base of the mast 
and extended to a cleat within easy 
reach of the occupant of the 
boat. A double paddle was 
fashioned from a board i 
inch thick, 6 inches wide 
and 6 feet long. The 
blades were shaved down to 
a thickness of ^ of an inch 
at the edges. 
It will be observed that we used no iron in the construc- 
tion of this boat. Uncle Ed has warned us not to, because 
Iron rusts out so easily and is apt to damage both the canvas 
and the wood with which it is in contact. 

A canoe is rather a tipsy thing to sail in, as we soon learned, 
and it was lucky that we could all swim, else our vacation 




Fig. 119 
The Mizzen Sail. 




■<- - 



6' o" 

Fig. 120. The Double Paddle. 



might have ended very tragically; for the very first time Bill 
and I tried the boat an unexpected gust of wind struck us 
and over we went. We were very poor sailors at first, but 
it didn't take us long to catch on. 



Canvas Canoes. 



119 



Lee Boards. 



One thing that bothered us greatly in sailing was the keel 
of our canoe. It was forever getting twisted, particularly 
when we tried to make a landing. There were only a few 
places along the island where the water was deep enough to 
permit our coming right up to shore without striking the 
keel. The fastening was not very strong, and every once and 
awhile it would be wrenched loose. The matter was made 
the subject of a special letter to Uncle Ed, and in due time 
his answer was received. As usual, he offered a first-class 
solution of the difficulty. " Don't use a keel," he wrote; 
" lee boards are much better." Then he went on to explain 
what was meant by lee boards: "The leeward side of a 
boat is the opposite of the windward side ; that is, that side 
of the boat which is sheltered from the wind. Lee boards, 
then, are boards which are hung over the lee side of a boat 
to prevent it from drifting to lee- 
ward, and they serve to take the 
place of a keel or centerboard." 

Following Uncle Ed's direction 
we fastened a strip of wood across 
the canoe about six feet from the 
bow, nailing it firmly to the gun- 
wales. This provided a support to 
which the lee boards were secured. 
The lee boards were paddle-shaped 




I20 



The Scientific American Boy. 




cff?ss s/'/c/t' 



affairs of the form and dimensions shown in Fig, 121. Each 
paddle near the top was hinged to the end of a board three 
inches wide and a foot long. The paddle was held at right 
angles to the board by means of a 
hook. Each board was fastened 
with door hinges to a baseboard 
which extended the width of the boat 
and was attached to the crosspiece 
of the canoe by means of a couple of 
bolts. The bolt heads were counter- 
sunk, so that the hinged boards could 
lie flat over them. To the top of each lee board two ropes 
were attached, one passing forward around a pulley and 
thence back to a cleat within easy reach of the occupant of 
the canoe, and the other passing directly back to this cleat. 
By pulling the former rope the lee board was lifted out of 
the water, while the latter rope was used to swing the board 
into working position. When tacking to port (left), the 
board on the left side of the canoe was lowered and the 
other was raised, as shown in Fig. 123, and when tacking to 



Fig. 122. 

Section of the 

Canoe, Showing Lee Board 




Fig. 123. 
The Lee Boards in Use on Canoe. 



Canvas Canoes. 



121 



the starboard (right) the board on the right side was low- 
ered, while the left one was raised. 

The Indian Paddling Canoe. 

Our sailing canoe proved such a good one that we decided 
to build a second. This was to be much lighter, for paddling 
only, and of the true Indian shape, with wide, bulging 
sides and raised stem and stern. The dimension of the 
forms used are given in Figs. 124 and 125. These forms, 
it will be observed, were notched to receive the keelson and 







Fig. 124. Center Form. 




Fig. 125. 
Intermediate Form. 



gunwales. The keelson was formed of i-inch spruce 3 

inches wide and 10 feet long. The stem and stern, which 

were both of the same shape, were cut from a 

12-inch board to the form shown in Fig. 126, 

and were firmly secured to the keelson. 

This made the boat 1 2 feet 

long. The forms were then 

set in place on the keelson, , ^ , ; 

one at the center and the pig. 126. The Stem Piece. 




122 



The Scientific American Boy. 




■<<- J' 0-'— ->v- y o'-'—..^ 

Fig. 127. Skeleton Frame of Canoe. 

Others three feet each side. The gunwales were formed 
of ^-inch by 2^/4 -inch spruce, and the twelve rib bands used 
were of the size used In our first boat. As none of these 
forms was to remain In the boat, nails were driven very 
lightly Into them, with heads projecting so that they could 
easily be withdrawn when It was time to remove the forms. 
The cross ribs were passed under the keelson inside of the 
rib bands and outside of the gunwales, as shown In Fig. 128. 
After they were set in place and firmly secured with copper 
tacks, a band was nailed to the keelson to form the keel. 
To produce the raised stem and stern, four 
wedge-shaped pieces were nailed to 
the tops of the gunwales, as 
indicated In Fig. 129. The 
forms were then removed 
and were replaced with 
cross sticks braced between 
the gunwales. The center 
cross stick was provided 
with two corner pieces, as 
shown In Fig. 130, adapted to fit under the gunwales and 
against the rib bands. The canvas was then applied In the 
manner described before, but was tacked to the upper edge 




Fig. 128. 
Section at Center of Canoe. 



Canvas Canoes. 



123 



iVjrJQG£P/£C£ 



of the gunwale instead of the outer side, and the tacks were 

covered by a half-round molding which extended around the 

entire boat. After the lacing was cut the edge of the canvas 

was secured to the 

under edges of 

the gunwales. 

The canoe was 

then completed 

by fastening on a 

i-inch square keel 

and treating the 



GC/Afyv^i £ 




Fig. 129. Wedge Pieces at the Ends. 



boat with two coats of paint. The paddle was a duplicate of 
the one described in connection with the sailing canoe. 

I remember that we eventually equipped our paddling 
canoe with a sail and a pair of lee boards, though no record of 
this fact appears in the chronicles of the society. 




W^^^^J.'^^^^^^y^y-^y^^A; 




Fig. 130. The Cross Braces. 



CHAPTER XI. 



HOUSE BUILDING. 



One afternoon Fred, who had waded over to Lumber- 
ville after some provisions, came splashing back holding aloft 
a large square envelope. It was from Uncle Ed and con- 
tained a photograph of a group of Wichita Indians building 
a large grass lodge. In a brief explanatory letter Uncle Ed 
suggested that we build a similar hut on our Island. 



The Grass Hut. 



The grass lodge ap- 
pealed to us as very 
picturesque, and we 
set to work immedi- 
ately on its construc- 
tion. We made our 
hut much smaller, 
however, only 12 
feet In diameter, 
and 8 or 9 feet 
high. First we pro- 
cured two dozen 
light poles between 
10 and 12 feet long. 




D o o R 



J2. 



Fig. 131. 
Making the Frame of the Straw Hut. 
124 



House Building. 



125 



These we set up about 1 8 inches apart in a circle like a stock- 
ade, the sticks being burled in the ground to a depth of 12 
inches. At one side a space of 3 feet was allowed for a 
doorway. Inside the stockade we erected a working plat- 
form of planks supported on barrels, and standing on this 
we took two opposite poles, bent them inward and lashed 
their upper ends together. Then a second 
pair of opposite poles were similarly 
bent inward and tied, and so we 
proceeded until the entire stock- 
ade had been converted into 
a dome-shaped cage. Around 
these poles we laid lighter 
sticks, or bands, tying them 
at the points of intersection. 
At the doorway two posts 
were set firmly in the ground, 
projecting upward to a height 

of 4 feet. A lintel nailed across the top of the posts com- 
pleted the door frame. Sticks were nailed to the lintel and 
to the side posts, extending to the main frame of the hut, to 
which they were tied. We were now ready to thatch our 
hut. Reddy and Dutchy went over to Lumberville for 
several bales of straw. We tied the straw in bunches and 
applied it to the frame, copying, as best we could, the 
process illustrated in the photograph. 

But for its location the hut would have proved a very 
serviceable habitation. In order to have a good, dry dwell- 




Fig. 132. Doorway of the Hut. 



126 The Scientific American Boy. 

Ing without laying down a board flooring, we had selected 
for its site the sandy shore at Point Lookout. This part of 
the island was not sheltered with trees, and the hot sun beat 
down on our hut so strongly that we found the quarters 
very uncomfortable indeed. It was this fact that led to 
the construction of a tree hut — a building that would be 
perfectly dry and yet shaded and cool. Bill had read of 
such houses in the Philippines and felt confident that we 
could build one. We couldn't decide at first where to locate 
our hut until Dutchy moved that we build it in the gnarled 
oak tree overlooking the " Goblins' Dancing Platform." 
Immediately the motion was seconded and unanimously 
carried. 

The Goblins' Dancing Platform. 

Just above the town of Lumberville there was a cliff 
which rose sheer 200 feet above the level of the river. So 
perpendicular was the cliff that a stone dropped from the 
overhanging ledge at the top would fall straight down to 
the railroad track below without touching a twig in its 
course. Back of this broad ledge there was a very peculiar 
formation. A column of stone rose abruptly 40 feet higher 
and was topped with a large slab about 12 feet in diameter. 
This was known all over that region as the Goblins' Dancing 
Platform. The only possible way of gaining the summit 
of the column was by climbing a scraggly oak tree which 
grew on the high ground back of the pillar, crawling out on 



House Building. 127 

an overhanging limb, and then dropping down to the plat- 
form below. It was in this oak that we decided to build our 
house. It was a very inaccessible spot, and to reach it we 
had to make a wide detour around the back of the hill, and 
through the fields of a cranky farmer, who more than once 
threatened to fill us with bird shot for trespassing on his 
property. How were we to carry all our building materials 
up to this great height? One would think that the diffi- 
culties would be enough to discourage us, but not so with the 
S. S. I. E. E. of W. C. I. Nothing daunted us. 

Dutchy Takes a Dare. 

Our first task was to try some other approach to the top of 
the cliff. At one side of the overhanging ledge there was 
a fissure in the rocks which ran from the base of the pillar 
to the foot of the cliff. Down this zigzag crevice Dutchy 
had scrambled, one afternoon, on a dare. We were rather 
frightened when he started, because it was a very hazardous 
undertaking, and we watched him anxiously, peering over the 
edge of the precipice. By bracing his back against one of 
the walls of the rock, and digging his feet Into the niches and 
chinks of the opposite wall, he safely made his way to a 
shelf about half-way down, where he paused to rest. From 
that point on the fissure widened out, and a steep, almost 
vertical incline, sparsely covered with vegetation, led to the 
railroad track below. I think he must have become rather 
frightened at his position, because he hesitated long before 



128 The Scientific American Boy. 

he resumed his downward course, and when he finally did 
make the attempt his foot slipped upon the moss-covered 
rocks and down he fell, scratching and clawing at every shrub 
within reach. Believing him to be killed, we rushed down 
the hill and around to the foot of the cliff. It probably 
took us about fifteen or twenty minutes, though it seemed 
ages before we came upon our venturesome comrade coolly 
trying to pin together a rent of inconvenient location and 
dimensions in his trousers. 

" Say, Dutchy, are you killed? " cried Bill, breathlessly. 

" Killed, nothing," he replied, with scorn. " I suppose 
you fellows think I had a fall. Well, I didn't." 

" You didn't, eh? We saw you slip." 

" Oh, go on. I came down that way on purpose. There 
was no use in picking my way down like a 'fraid cat, when I 
could just as well take a smooth and easy toboggan slide 
on the bushes all the way down." 

Smooth and easy toboggan slide ! Well, you should have 
seen the hillside. The course was well defined by the torn 
and uprooted shrubs and the pile of branches and vines at 
Dutchy's feet. Whether the hare-brained Dutchy really 
imagined he could glide easily down on the shrubbery, his 
frantic movements on the way certainly belied his story, 
and when, the next day, we proposed that he repeat the trick, 
somehow he didn't seem to be very enthusiastic on the 
subject. 



House Building. 



129 



A Path Up the Fissure, 



It was up this fis- 
sure that we decided 
to haul materials for 
our tree hut. Our 
first task was to build 
steps and ladders in 
the steepest parts. We 
had no tool for cutting 
out niches in the rock, 
but wherever natural 
depressions were 
formed we wedged in 
sticks of wood between 
the side walls to serve 
as ladder rungs. If 
no such niches appeared for 
considerable height, we 
would stretch a rope ladder to 
the next fixed rung. In most 
places the natural formation 
of the rock was such as to 
afford sufficient footing. 




Fig. 133. The Jacob's Ladder. 



I30 



The Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 134. 

Rope 
Ladder. 



Fig. 135. A Ladder Rung. 



Rope Ladders. 

The rope ladders were made of two parallel 
side straps, tightly stretched between the fixed 
sticks, and then at intervals of fifteen inches we 
inserted the ends of the ladder rung between 
the strands of the rope. Below and above each 
rung the rope was bound with cord. The 
rungs were notched at the ends to prevent them from 
slipping out. 

After providing a means for 
scaling the cliff (we called it the 
Jacob's Ladder), we were still 
confronted with the problem how to cart our building ma- 
terials to the top. It was a very hard task and you couldn't 
have hired us to do it under any other 
circumstances. First, Bill planned out on 
paper just how the house was to be 
built, and we cut all the pieces to the 
right size so as not to carry up 
any superfluous matter. When 
all was ready the boards and 
sticks were loaded on the scow, 
and ferried over to the cliff. 
Then we carried them on our 
backs, three or four at a time, 
Fig. 136. The Derrick. up the slanting hillside to the 




House Building. 



131 



first ledge. From there up, owing to the steepness of the 
ascent, we had to employ different tactics. 



The Derrick. 







'*■'< A derrick was 
constructed of two 
sticks 10 feet long, which were 
bolted together at the top, and 
secured about five feet apart at 
the bottom by a cross piece, as 
shown in Fig. 136. The derrick was 
then taken apart and with some diffi- 
culty hauled piecemeal up to the next ledge above. Here it 
was put together again. The fall and tackle used in our 
aerial railway was attached to the apex of the derrick, and 
the latter was then erected with the legs set into depressions 




Fig. 137. 
The Derrick in Use. 



132 



The Scientific American Boy. 



in the ledge and the upper ends slanting outward but kept 
from falling over the edge by a rope tied to one of the fixed 
rungs set in the fissure. With this derrick we hoisted up 
the boards in a few hauls. The job was a very ticklish one, 
but Bill used the greatest care to prevent accident. The 
derrick, rope and tackle were carefully tested before used, 
and as soon as the load was attached to the lower pulley 
block the two who did the loading were instructed to crawl 
back into the fissure so as to be out of danger in case any- 
thing gave way. At one time a stick which had been care- 
lessly tied did fall, and it might have badly hurt some one 
had we not observed this precaution. When we had raised 
the material to the second ledge we transferred operations 
to the top ledge, and when the materials had been hauled up 
to this point we finally rigged up our fall and tackle in the 
old oak tree itself. . i 

The Tree House. 

The tree had two large 
limbs which extended out at 
a wide angle from the main 
trunk. Across these two limbs, 
at about seven feet out, we laid 
our first girder, nailing it securely in place. Then to the 
main trunk we nailed the second girder on a level with the 
first. Diagonal braces were extended from the trunk to 
support the ends of this girder, and a tie piece was nailed to 




Fig. 138. 

Main Girder of the Tree 

House. 



House Building. 



133 



the braces, as shown in Fig. 138, to prevent them from 
spreading. The girders were rough sticks about 4 inches in 
diameter and 10 feet long. We cut flat faces on them at 
the points where they were nailed to the tree, and then, to 
make them doubly secured, we nailed cleats, or blocks of 
wood, to the tree under them. The floor beams were then 
laid across and nailed to the girders. They were cut to a 




/o' 

Fig 139. Top View of the Platform. 



length of 10 feet so as to project beyond the outer girder 
to provide for a piazza overhanging the Goblins' Platform. 
Six floor beams were used, spaced 20 inches apart. All 
branches projecting up between the beams were then cut 
away and a flooring of slabs was laid on. To the main 



The Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 140. The Frame of the House. 



trunk six feet above the flooring, a stick or (to use the tech- 
nical term), " wall plate," was nailed on, and its ends were 
supported by upright posts resting on the platform. Thirty 
inches from the outer end of the platform two more posts 
were erected eight feet high and secured by sticks nailed 
across from the other posts, and also by a second wall plate 
connecting their upper ends. Four more posts were erected, 
one between each pair of the corner posts, and then we were 
ready to enclose the framing. 

The sidewalls were first clapboarded, because we were 
afraid the roof would not hold us until the framing had been 



House Building. 



135 



strengthened by nailing on the siding. Slab boards were 
used for this purpose. Beginning at the bottom, the boards 
were laid on, each lapping over the one below, as shown in 
Fig. 141, so as to shed water. In each side we 
cut a window opening and nailed on a 
window casing of the type shown 
in Fig. 142, which will 
be described in a 
moment. As soon as the 
clapboards were applied, 
we nailed on the rafters 
and then applied the 
roofing. The same prin- 
ciple was here 
used for shedding 
wa t e r . The 

t ,1 J Fie. 141. Nailiner on the Clapboards. 

lowest board was 

first laid on, and then the others were successively applied, 

each lapping over the one below. 

The window casings we used 
each consisted of a frame about 15 
Inches square, but with the upper 
and lower pieces extending 12 
inches beyond one of the side 
pieces. On these extended pieces 
a slideway was formed for the 

window sash by nailing on two strips of wood about )4 ii^ch 

square and over them a pair of wider strips projecting in- 





¥\g. 142. 
The Window Casing. 



1^6 



The Scientific American Boy. 



ward, so as to overlap the edges of the sash. The window 
sash consisted of a frame 13^/^ inches square, made of ^- 
inch square strips over which canvas was tightly stretched 
and tacked. A spool was nailed on at one side for a handle. 
These windows were closed only in 
rainy weather, to keep the water out. 





1^^:-^==^-'-'--^ 


1 





Sliding Doors. 



Fig. 143. 
The Window Sash. 






We had two doors ; one at the back 

of the house, from 

which a ladder ex- 
tended down to the ground, and another 
opening out onto the veranda, from 
which we dropped a ladder down to the 
Goblins' Dancing Platform. In order 
to save space we used sliding instead of 
swinging doors. The back door frame 
was 5^ feet high and the front door 
frame 6 feet high. The doors were 
mounted on the outside of the building. 
The side posts of each frame were 2^ 
feet apart, and the lintel and sill 
extended 3 feet beyond the side 
post at one side. The upper face 
of the lintel was planed down per- 
fectly smooth, and its edges were 
tapered off to make a track for the and Frame. 




Fig. 144. 
Section of the Door 




A Filipino Bamboo Tree House. 



House Building. 137 

rollers on the door. The rollers consisted of two spools, 
which turned on tenpenny nails driven into the top of the 
door. At the lower end two more spools were mounted, 
turning on nails driven in the bottom edge of the door. The 
rims of the spools extended slightly beyond the outer face of 
the door and rolled against the sill. To keep the water 
from leaking in at the top a slanting board was fastened 
above it, as shown in Fig. 144. The back door was similarly 
constructed. Our tree house was completed by a running 
balustrade around the veranda. 

It strangely happened that just after our tree house had 
been built we received a photograph from Uncle Ed of a 
Filipino tree house made of bamboo. 



CHAPTER XII. 



TROUBLE WITH THE TRAMPS. 

We were a proud lot when the house was finally completed. 
From the veranda we had an excellent view up and down 
the river. We could see our camp on the island and keep 
watch of our goods. Late one afternoon Dutchy and I 
were lolling about on the Goblins' Platform, idly watching 
a hawk soaring above us. The rest of the boys had returned 
to the island in canoes an hour before and left the heavy 
scow for us to row back. It was drawing near supper time 
and we had about decided to start for home, when I chanced 
to see a scow up the river. It looked exactly like ours, and 
in it were two men, evidently drunk, from the way they 
carried on. A glance showed me that our scow was not at its 
moorings. How were we to reach the camp? One of the 
men had evidently seen us and was pointing us out to his 
companion. We rushed down the Jacob's Ladder, but by 
the time we reached the river bank they were in midstream 
and heading rapidly northward. Our shouts merely brought 
forth derisive laughter. We were certainly in a predica- 
ment. First we ran back up the cliff, and tried from there 
to gain the attention of the rest of the fellows. They evi- 
dently saw us but couldn't make out what we wanted. Then 

138 



Trouble with the Tramps. 139 

we ran down to a point opposite the Island and called to 
them. But the wind was against us and we couldn't make 
them hear, so we had to plunge In and wade across. 

A Council of "War. 

Immediately we summoned a war council. Dutchy and 
Jack were chosen by lot to guard the camp, while the rest 
of us started In pursuit In canoes. By the time we got under 
way the sun had dropped back of the Pennsylvania hills 
and the shadows were climbing slowly up the Jacob's Ladder. 
Swiftly we paddled up-stream, keeping close to the western 
shore, where the water was very quiet. We didn't expect 
to go far, because there were rapids less than three miles 
up, and we were sure that no tramps would ever be ambitious 
enough to row a heavy scow against the swift current at that 
point. As we rounded a sharp bend in the river, we noticed 
a camp fire a few hundred feet further up, around which five 
or six men were lounging, and there, just below them, was 
our scow. What were four boys to do against six grown 
men? We were each armed with a club, and could have 
made a pretty good fight if necessary, but after a whispered 
consultation we decided it would be best to wait until dark, 
when we could creep up quietly and steal away unnoticed 
with our boat. 

Vengeance. 

It seemed as if darkness never would come. It was 
scarcely dusk when our patience gave out and we paddled up 



140 The Scientific American Boy. 

stealthily, hugging the shore. Bill gained the scow un- 
noticed, but just as he was about to push off he discerned the 
body of a man within. It was one of the tramps lying there 
in a drunken stupor. What was to be done ? Every moment 
was precious. A yell from the fireside decided him. With a 
mighty push he launched the boat out into the current, while 
we threw him a line and towed the boat out to midstream. 
With a volley of curses the men sprang up and pelted us with 
stones. But they were poor shots, and we escaped without 
serious injury. Our prisoner, in the meantime, was snoring 
heavily in the scow undisturbed. We took him down-stream 
and then unceremoniously picked him up and dumped him 
overboard within a few feet of the shore. It was a rude 
awakening, and nearly frightened the wits out of the man. 
But it brought him to his senses, and in a moment we were 
dodging more stones, sent with such good aim that we had 
to lie flat in the bottoms of the boats until the current carried 
us out of reach. 

A Double Surprise. 

It was now quite dark, and we had some difficulty in 
groping our way back to camp. There was no moon and 
the stars were obscured by clouds. Our only course was to 
follow the shore line until we got around the bend, and then 
we steered for the beacon fire, which, by prearrangement, 
had been kindled on Point Lookout. But the spirit of 
mischief was in us. We thought we would have some fun 



Trouble with the Tramps. 



141 




Fig. 145. A Joke on Dutchy. 



with Dutchy. We could see him silhouetted against the 
blaze. Jim and I hung back in the canoes, while Reddy and 
Bill went on with the scow, splashing their oars and shouting 
and singing in disguised voices, like drunken men. Dutchy 
was evidently very much agitated. His "Hello, there! 
Boat ahoy! " was greeted with derisive yells. 

** Say, we'll lick the life out of you, the same as we did 
them other kids," shouted Reddy. 

This was too much for Dutchy. He ran for all he was 
worth, yelling for Jack to come quick. 

We had a merry laugh over the situation when suddenly 
the tables were turned. Something whizzed past Bill's 
ear; I was stung on the arm with a heavy nail; a 



142 



The Scientific American Boy. 



large stone hit the scow ; Reddy had his hat knocked off, and 
Fred upset his canoe trying to duck out of reach of the in- 
visible missies before we could make our assailants under- 
stand that we were friends and not the tramps. The joke 
was on us after all. We hadn't counted on Dutchy's accurate 
aim or Jack's skill with the crossbow. 



Tramp-proof Boat Mooring. 

Around the camp fire that night we discussed our adven- 
tures and made plans to prevent their recurrence. It was 
evident, for one thing, that we would have to moor our 
boats off shore in such a way that they would be out of reach 

of meddlesome persons, 
/S^.'^r:^ . ,/ /'* and yet could be drawn 



■] ii ' 




Fig. 146. 
A Tramp-proof 
Mooring. 



in toward shore by any one who knew how. This was the way 
we did it. A pair of galvanized iron ring bolts were pro- 
cured on Jack's next trip to Lamington for provisions, also a 
light rope about forty feet long. The ring bolts were screwed 
into a pair of stout anchor stakes about two feet from their 
lower ends. The rope was passed through the rings and the 



Trouble with the Tramps. 143 

ends were joined by tying them to a galvanized Iron link. 
Then It was soaked for a while to shrink it before it was set 
in place. After the rope had shrunk sufficiently, the two 
stakes were driven into the bed of the river, one close to the 
bank and the other far enough out to hold the rope belt clear 
of the bottom. Both stakes were sawed off under water, just 
above the ring bolts, so that they were hidden from sight. 
When we wanted to moor our boats we secured their anchor 
ropes or " painters " to the link. A large stepping stone 
marked the spot were the inner stake was driven, and stand- 
ing on this stone we were able to reach down and haul in on 
the lower strap of the belt to draw the boat out a safe distance 
from shore, and then when we wanted to use our boat again 
we would haul in the upper strap to draw the boat in 
toward shore. 



CHAPTER XIII. 



WIGWAGGING AND HELIOGRAPHING. 

Our tramp adventure was really quite a blessing to us, for 
it taught us the necessity of a good signaling system between 
the Goblins' Platform and the island and led to our learning 
how to wigwag, and later to the construction of a heliograph. 
Uncle Ed, when he read of our experience, sent us the U. S. 
Army " Manual of Signaling." Fred, the tailor of our camp, 
made us two white flags with red centers. Each flag was 
two feet square and was fastened to a light staff about five 
feet long. Then we got out the manual and practised send- 
ing signals, at first within shouting distance, until we got to 
be quite expert. 

W^ig^vag Signals. 

There were only three different movements that could be 

made with flags, but in the book different combinations of 

these movements were given to represent each letter of the 

alphabet and the numbers from i to o. All these 

movements were begun and ended by holding the flagstaff 

upright, directly in front of the body, as shown in Fig. 147. 

The first movement was to swing the flag down to the right 

and back (Fig. 148), the second to the left and back (Fig. 

144 



Wigwagging and Helio graphing. 



145 



WIGWAGGING. 





Fig. 147. 
Ready. 



Fig. 148. 
First Movement. 




Fig. 149. Fig. 150. 

Second Movement. Third Movement. 



149) , and the third forward and back (Fig. 150). The fol- 
lowing table gives the different combinations used for various 
letters : 



The Wigwag Alphabet. 



A 
B 
C 
D 
E 
F 
G 
H 
I. 

1. 

2. 
3. 



22 

2112 

121 

222 

12 

2221 

2211 

122 

1 



1111 
2222 
1112 



J.. 

K. 
L. 

M 
N. 
O. 
P.. 

Q. 
R. 



1122 

2121 

221 

1221 

11 

21 

1212 

1211 

211 



Numerals. 



2221 
1122 
2211 

1222 



S.... 
T... 
U... 
V... 
W.. 
X... 
Y... 
Z... 
tion. 



212 

2 

112 

1222 
1121 
2122 
111 
2222 
1112 



2111 
1221 
2112 



146 



The Scientific American Boy. 



rr 

Fig. 151. 

The Signal 

for 

Letter 

"B." 







"n» 



The numbers i , 2 and 3 indicate respectively the first, sec- 
ond and third movements. For instance, A was represented 
— -,, by the combination 22, 



which means that the flag 
must be swept to the left 
and back twice. B is rep- 
resented by the combination 
2 1 1 2, that is, a sweep to the 
left, two sweeps to the right and a 
final sweep to the left, as shown in 
Fig. 151. The end of a word was 
represented by a sweep forward and 
back; the end of a sentence by two 
sweeps forward and back, and the end of a message by three 
sweeps forward and back. It will be noticed that the same 
combinations are used for 2 and Z, 3 and tion, 4 and F, 5 and 
J, 6 and G, 7 and V, 9 and M, and o and B. The following 
abbreviations were given in the Manual: 



Abbreviations. 



.after 
.before 
.can 
.have 



n not 

r are 

t the 

u you 



ur your 

w word 

wi with 

y yes 



These abbreviations saved a lot of time, for when we 
wanted to signal the word after instead of spelling it out — 
22-2221-2-12-21 1-3 — we used the signal for A — 22 — fol- 



Wigwagging and Helio graphing. 



147 




lowed by 3 to signify that it was the end of the word. Before 
was represented by 2 1 1 2-3, your by 1 1 1-2 1 1-3, etc. It took 
quite a little practice to learn the different combinations. 
Fred and Reddy soon became experts, and could flash the 
signals back and forth at a great rate. 

Wigwagging at Night. 

At night we used a torch in place of a 
flag. The torch consisted of a roll of 
dried birch bark tied with wire to the 
end of a staff. It was found necessary 
to place another torch on the ground di- 
rectly in front of the signaler so as to fix 
a central point and enable one to de- 
termine whether the moving torch was 
swung to the left or right. A later im- 
provement was to use three lanterns, 
one in each hand and one attached to the 
waist to fix the central position. It was 
quite an advantage to have a lantern in 
each hand, for it saved changing over from one to the other 
when a second movement followed a first or a first movement 
a second. 







Fig. 152. 

Wigwagging at 

Night. 



The Heliograph. 

The book that Uncle Ed sent us had in it a description of 
a heliograph, that is, an instrument for sending signals with 



148 



The Scientific American Boy. 



flashes of sunlight. Although our wigwagging system was 
good enough for our requirements, yet we thought it would 
be more scientific to use the sun instrument, and besides, the 
latter could be used for signaling many miles. 

The Single Mirror Instrument. 



The first thing we did was to procure a small mirror about 
4 inches square, mounted in a wooden frame. Then we got 
a pair of small square head bolts about ^ of an inch in 
diameter and i inch long, also two strips of brass ^ inch 
wide and 3 inches long. In the center of each brass strip we 
drilled a hole just large enough to admit the shank of one 
of the bolts, and then the strips were fastened with screws 
tight against opposite edges of the mirror 
frame, with the heads pressed against the 
frame and the shanks sticking out at each 
side, as shown in Fig. 153. These pro- 
jecting shanks served as " trunnions " 
(that is, pivots) for the mirror to turn on 
when it was mounted in place. After the 
trunnions had been set in place we made a 
peep hole in the center of the mirror by cut- 
ting out a piece of the wooden back of the 
frame and scratching away the silver from 
the back of the glass. Only a very small hole was required, 
about % inch in diameter. Great care was taken to have 
the unsilvered spot exactly on a line with the trunnions and 




Fig. 153. 

Trunnion for 

Mirror. 



JVigwagging and Helio graphing. 



149 



just half-way between them. This done, we took two sticks 
of ^-inch wood, i Inch wide and 33^ inches long. In 
the upper end of each stick a slot was cut y^ inch deep and 
inch wide. Into these slots the trunnions 
of the mirror were 
placed, and then the 
nuts were screwed 
tightly on, clamping 
the sticks against 
the sides of the 
mirror. The sticks 
were now connected 
by nailing a ^-inch strip 
at the bottom, and braced 
a couple of corner pieces. 
This formed a swiveled frame 
r the mirror, which was clamped 
to the base of the instrument by 
means of a bolt i^^ inches long. 
The bolt passed through the bottom board of the frame, 
squarely under the peep hole of the mirror and through the 
baseboard of the instrument near one end. The baseboard 
was 2 inches wide, 10 inches long and ^ inch thick. 




Fig. 154. 

The Single 

Mirror 
Instrument. 



I50 



The Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 155. 
The Sight Rod, 



The Sight Rod. 

At the end opposite to where the mirror frame was 
swiveled we mounted a sight rod, which was merely a round 
stick of wood y2 inch in diameter and about 8 inches long. 
We cut the stick from one of the rounds 
of an old broken chair. The upper end 
of the rod was whittled to a point and one 
side was flattened as shown in Fig. 155. 
Out of a piece of heavy white cardboard 
we cut a round disk about 54 ii^ch in 
diameter, with a shank i inch long sticking 
out at one side. This was fastened with a 
single tack to the flattened end of the rod 
in such a position that the point lay exactly against the center 
of the disk. The disk could then be turned up or down, to 
cover or uncover the point of the rod, as desired. The rod 
was fitted snugly into a hole in the 
baseboard, and could be raised 
or lowered to any extent desired, 
but we had to provide some sort 
of an arrangement for making it 
stay where it was put. A small 

hole was drilled from the edge of the baseboard through to 
the hole in which the rod was fitted. A square socket was 
chiseled out around the small hole to receive a nut. The nut 
was firmly wedged in and held in place by driving in nails 
along the edges. A bolt or machine screw was threaded 




Fig. 156. 
Nut Set in Baseboard. 



Wigwagging and Helio graphing. 



151 



through the nut, so that its inner end pressed against the 
sighting rod. By tightening this screw the rod could be se- 
cured at any height desired. 

The instrument was mounted on a tripod similar to the 
one used for our surveying instrument. To this it was at- 
tached by means of a bolt, which passed through the center 
of the baseboard and the tripod head. 



The Screen. 

The screen, or shutter, of the heliograph was mounted on 
a separate tripod, so as to prevent shaking the mirror when 
it was operated. It was made something like a window 
shutter. We cut out two slats, each 2^ inches wide and 6 
inches long. They were made of hardwood ^ inch thick. 
The upper and lower edges were tapered 
down to a thickness of 3-16 inch. Light 
nails were driven into the vslats at the ends, 
and the nail heads were then filed off so 
that the projecting ends formed trunnions 
for the slats to turn on. The slats were 
linked to a connecting rod with double 
point tacks. A small double point tack 
was driven into the upper edge of each 
slat about 5^ inch from the right 
hand end. Then through each of 
these tacks we hooked a second double 
point tack and drove it into the rod. 




Fig. 157. 
Section through Shutter. 



The tacks on the rod were placed just 2 inches apart. A sub- 



152 



The Scientific American Boy. 



stantlal frame was then made of ^-inch stuff 13^ Inches 
wide. The frame was square, with an opening that measured 
6 Inches each way, Into which the slats were fitted. Before 
nailing the frame together we drilled holes In the side pieces 
for the trunnions of the slats to turn In. These holes were 
just I ^ Inches apart. After the slats had been set in place, 
the frame was fastened together and then nailed to a base- 
board, which was fast- 



ened by a bolt to the 
tripod. The shutter 
was operated by a key 
something like a 
telegraph key. It 
was made of a nar- 
row stick of wood 
hinged at one end to 
the lower strip of 
the shutter frame, 
and a spool sawed 
In two was fast- 
ened to the other 
end to serve as a 
handle for the 
key. A string 
connected the key with the connecting rod. The slats were 
kept closed by a spring, which was fastened at one end to the 
connecting rod and at the other to the top of the frame. At 
first we used a rubber band for this purpose, but it soon 




Fig. 158. General View of Screen. 



Wigwagging and Heliographing. 



153 



wore out, so we then made a spiral spring out of stiff spring 
brass wire by wrapping it around a pencil. When the key 
was pressed down the slats would be turned open, as shown 
in Fig. 159; but as soon as the key was released the spring 
would pull them back again. 

Focusing the Instrument. 

We were now ready to commence operations with our 
instruments. The heliograph was set up on the ledge at the 
top of the cliff. First the disk was turned down, uncovering 
the point of the sighting rod. Then Bill sighted through the 




Fig. 159. The Heliograph in Operation. 

unsilvered spot in the mirror and shifted the rod up and 
down until the tip end came squarely in line with the door of 
our straw hut, where Jack was seated, notebook in hand, 
to take down our message. Reddy stood by him with his 
wigwag flag to answer back. When the instrument was 
properly sighted the shutter was set up directly in front of 
it and the sighting disk turned up to cover the point of the 
sighting rod. Then came the rather troublesome task of 



154 



The Scientific American Boy. 



focusing the mirror. The mirror reflected a square panel of 
light, in the center of which there was a small shadow spot 
made by the unsilvered peep hole. The object was to get 
this shadow to fall on the center of the sighting disk. We 
knew that then the mirror would reflect the sunlight squarely 
on the straw hut. We found it quite easy to direct this 
shadow spot to the disk by holding a sheet of paper In front 
of the mirror six or eight inches away, and following up the 
spot on the paper until it reached the disk. 



.<r 



Heliograph Signaling. 

When at last we succeeded in properly focusing the mirror 
Bill pressed the key down three times, sending three quick 
flashes to Jack as a signal that he was ready to begin. Reddy 
wigwagged back O. K., and then the first heliographic 

message was sent from the ledge to 
the Island. It was a rather mixed-up 
message, and 
kept Jim and 
-> Reddy wigwag- 
ging back and 
forth very 
strenuously to 
straighten mat- 
ters out. It was my duty to keep the mirror focused. As the 
sun moved across the sky the shadow spot would move off the 
disk, and I had to keep shifting the mirror to bring the spot 
back where It belonged. We used the International Telegraph 




/^//ffi.o/t 






Fig. 160. 



^cnE£N 



Top View, showing position of 
Mirror and Shutter. 



Wigwagging and Helio graphing. 155 

Code, which we had been studying every evening for a week, 
but it was many weeks before we learned how to use it 
correctly, even slowly. The International Telegraph Code 
is as follows : 

/J/ — yv 

9 

The three short flashes Bill sent represented the letter S, 
which stood for the word " signal." A was formed by a 
short flash followed by a long flash; B by a long flash fol- 
lowed by three short ones, and so on. The key was held 
down three times as long for the long flash as for the short 
one. We found the best way of learning to send the signals 
properly was to count i for each short flash, and for each 
pause between parts of the letter, and 3 for each dash and 
for each pause between letters. Between words we counted 
6. Thus, for the letter A the key would be down when we 
counted i, up when we counted 2, down while we counted 
3, 4, 5, and up while we counted 6, 7, 8, for the pause after 
each letter. It was rather a confusing code, I admit, but in 



156 



The Scientific American Boy. 



time we mastered it, all but Reddy and Fred, who never 
would learn, but instead used the wigwag code, letting a 
short flash stand for i, a long flash for 2 and a double long 
flash for 3. 

The Double Mirror Instrument. 

Our heliographing instrument did excellent service send- 
ing flashes from the cliff to the Island, but we couldn't make 
it work very well sending messages from the island to the 
cliff, because we had to face almost due north, and then the 
sun was nearly always at our backs and couldn't shine squarely 
on the mirror. This led to our building a double mirrored 
heliograph the following summer. To begin with, we built 
an Instrument which was the exact duplicate of our first 
heliograph; then, in addition, to fit In the socket of the sight- 
ing rod, we rigged up a second mirror, which was mounted 
in exactly the same way as the first. The second mirror was 
called the station mirror, and differed from the other, or sun 
mirror, in having a 
small patch of white 
paper pasted at the 
center instead of a 
peep hole. When 
using this instrument, 
we set It up so that the station 
mirror faced the ledge, then 
by sighting through the hole 
In the sun mirror at the 




hP9T 



Fig. 161. 

The Double 

Mirror 
Instrument. 



Wigwagging and Helio graphing. 



^57 



'icz/ir 



xSOff Ml/fltoH 



reflection in the station mirror we could see just what was 
In focus. The station mirror had to be moved until the patch 
at its center hid the ledge from view. After that the sun 
mirror was shifted until the shadow spot fell on the white 
patch of the station mirror. When once the station mirror 
was focused, it could be clamped tightly in place by screwing 
up the trunnion and swivel nuts. But the sun mirror had to 
be constantly shifted to keep the shadow on the patch. An- 
other way of focusing the mirrors was to stand behind the 
instrument with the head close to the station mirror, shift the 

sun mirror until the entire station 
mirror was reflected in It, with 
the white patch 
squarely over the 
unsllvered spot ; 
then still looking 
at the sun mirror, 
the station mirror 
was shifted until 
the reflection of the distant station was brought squarely In 
line with the unsllvered spot on the mirror. The station 
mirror was now firmly bolted and the sun mirror adjusted 
until the shadow spot fell on the paper patch. 



~/'S. 







^ 

/f/6 .SrjJT/OM 



Fig. 162. Top View, showing position of the 
Two Mirrors and the Screen. 



CHAPTER XIV. 



ICE BOATS, SLEDGES AND TOBOGGANS. 

As our vacation was drawing to a close, we began to make 
plans for the Christmas holidays. Our previous Christmas 
vacation had been so completely taken up with preparations 
for the trip to Willow Clump Island that we had had no 
time for the trip itself. We resolved this time to have 
everything ready beforehand, so that we could spend the en- 
tire two weeks in solid pleasure. Our skate sails and snow 
shoes were stored in the attic, ready for use. If we were to 
make a trip in the snow we would need a sledge, and then, 
too, we wanted to make an ice boat. It would hardly pay 
to build these on the island and then cart them home, so It 
was decided to break up camp a couple of weeks before 
school commenced. 

Breaking Camp. 

Consequently, on the first day of September we gathered 
up our belongings, corraled our chickens, packed our goods, 
and the next day started for home. Mr. Schreiner, in re- 
sponse to a letter from the secretary, came down with a 
large wagon in which the majority of the things were packed. 

158 



Ice Boats, Sledges and Toboggans. 159 

The rest of our luggage was stowed in the scow and the 
canoes, and these were towed down the canal, as before. 
We reached home late in the afternoon, tired and hungry. 
It was a treat to sit at the table again and eat some of 
Mother's appetizing dishes. And say, wasn't that pie great, 
though ! My, how ravenous we were ! And then a soft, 
comfortable bed with spotless white sheets and pillow cases. 
How soundly we did sleep that night ! You can just bet 
we were all glad enough to get back to civilization, though, 
of course, no one could have dragged out the confession 
from a single one of us. 

The Ice Boat. 

School commenced on the 20th of September that year, 
so we hadn't much time to spare. Work was begun im- 
mediately on the ice boat. Our first ice boat was rather a 
crude one. A 2 by 4 inch scantling 14 feet long was 
used for the backbone of the boat. The scantling was 
placed on edge, and to lighten it and improve its appearance 
it was tapered fore and aft from a point 4 feet from the bow 
end. The thickness of the ends of the backbone was but 2 
inches, as shown in Fig. 163. To the under edge of the 





- *' 0- — 


>. 


ys^CM y3p/y£r 




"'U... 








U-' 

^ 


TT 






Fig. 163. The Backbone. 



i6o 



The Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 164. 

Frame of the 

Ice Boat. 



backbone, 5 feet from the forward end, a crosspiece was 
nailed. This crosspiece was a i-inch board 6 inches wide 
and 9 feet long. Braces were then 
run from the ends of the cross- 
piece to the forward 
and rear ends of 
the backbone, and 
at the rear end 
several boards nailed 
across the braces served as a 
seat for the boat. 
Our next task was to rig up the runners. For these we 
used skates, which were so arranged that we could remove 
them whenever we wanted to. Three blocks of wood were 
used for the runner shoes. Two of 
them were cut from a 2 by 4 scantling 
and measured a foot in length. The 
third block was only i inch thick, but 
was otherwise of the same dimensions. The skates were 
laid face downward on the blocks with the clamping levers 
open; then we marked the places where the clamping jaws 
touched the wood and drilled holes at these points. The 
forward end of each block was also tapered off to fit flat 
against the face of the skate. Then by inserting the jaws 
^ in the holes and clos- 

ing the levers, the 
skate was clamped to 



Fig. 165. 
Runner Shoe. 



<^7//////^/^^///A T. 



^^^^ 



£ 



^^^grs^ 



Fig. 166. 
The Rudder Shoe. 



the block, just as it 




Ice Boats, Sledges and Toboggans. i6i 

would be to a shoe. The two 2-inch blocks were bolted to 
the ends of the crosspiece, but the third block needed further 
attention, as it was to be used for the rudder or steering 
runner. 

The rudder post was shaped from a block of hardwood 
3 inches square and lo inches long. Two inches from the 

lower end saw cuts were made in 
— the side of the block to a depth ol 
^A inch. Then with a chisel the 

Fig. 167. The Tiller. ,. n- r • 

sides were split on, forming a large 
pin with a square shank 8 Inches long. Next the corners of 
the shank were cut off, rounding it to a diameter of i>^ 
inches. The runner block was fastened securely to the head of 
the rudder post with screws. A i ^-inch hole was now drilled 
Into the backbone at the stern end to receive the rudder post. 
A tiller was next cut out of a i-inch board to the shape 
shown in Fig. 167. A slot was 
cut in the end of the tiller, and the 
latter fitted snugly over the top of the 
post, where it was held in place by 
screws threaded in through the sides. 

The mast of our boat was a pole Fig. 168. 

n f ^ ' r I- , Drilling the Mast Step. 

8 feet long, tapering from a diameter 

2 Inches at the base to i ^/^ inches at the top. A step for the 
mast was cut from a 2 by 4 block 8 Inches long. A 2-inch 
hole was drilled Into the face of this block. We had no drill 
large enough to bore this hole, but accomplished the same 
result by drilling eight ^-inch holes inside of a 2-inch circle 




l62 



The Scientific American Boy. 



(Fig. 1 68), and then used a chisel to cut off the projecting 

pieces. The mast step was firmly bolted to the backbone 

at its thickest part, that is, just four feet 

from the forward end. The mast 

was braced with stay ropes 

stretched from the top to the 

forward end of the backbone 

and to the ends of the cross- 
piece. A 9-foot pole, 

tapering from i Yz inches 

to I inch in diameter, 

was used for the 

boom of the 

mainsail, and for 

the gaff we used / / fvi 

a 6-foot pole of \. <?/'» 

the same diam- ^.^ ^^^^ ^^^ ^^.^^^., 

eter. 
The dimensions of the mainsail are given in Fig. 169. 

For mast hoops we used curtain rings. Five were attached 

to the sail along the luff, and one was fastened with a piece 

of leather to the end of the gaff. We used a different scheme 

for holding the boom to the 
mast. The forward end of 
the boom was flattened at the 
sides and a couple of cheek 
blocks were bolted on, forming 
jaws of the shape Indicated in 





Fig. 170. Jaws of the Boom. 



Ice Boats, Sledges and Toboggans. 163 

Fig. 170. The jaws were whittled out to fit nicely around 
the mast, and were kept from slipping oft by a piece of rope 
passed around the mast and threaded through the ends of 
the cheek blocks. Half a dozen small pulley blocks were 
now procured, of the type used on awnings. A rope called 
the throat halyard was strung from the throat or forward end 
of the gaff through a pulley block near the top of the mast, 
and led down to the backbone, where it was " belayed," or 
wrapped around a cleat. The cleat, which was whittled out 
of a stick of wood, was made in the 
form indicated in Fig. 171. A short 
length of rope was strung through a 
pulley block and tied with some slack 
to the upper end and to the center of 
the gaff. This rope is called a A^cieat 

" bridle," and to the pulley block on 

this " bridle " a rope was attached called the " peak hal- 
yard." The peak halyard was passed through a pulley 
block at the top of the mast, and belayed on a cleat at the 
side of the backbone. For the main sheet (that is, the rope 
used for guiding the mainsail) two pulley blocks were 
fastened to the backbone, one just in front of the seat and 
the other a few feet further forward, and two more were 
lashed to the boom, midway between these blocks. The 
sheet was fastened near the aft end of the backbone and then 
strung through the blocks in the order illustrated, the free 
end of the sheet being brought back to the seat, where a cleat 
was provided, to which it could be secured when desired. 




164 



The Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 172. The Jib-sail. 



The jib-sail was now cut out to the dimensions given in 
Fig. 172. The foot of the sail was lashed to a jib-boom 
3 feet 4 inches long. The jib-boom was attached 
to the backbone at its fore end by means of a 
couple of screw eyes. The eye of one of 
these was pried open, linked through the 
other and then closed again. One of 
the screw eyes was now screwed into 
the head of the jib-boom and the other 
was threaded into the end of the back- 
bone. The upper corner or " head " 
of the jib was tied to a jib-halyard, which passed through a 
block at the top of the mast, and was secured on a cleat on the 
backbone. On the jib we used two sheets. They were at- 
tached to the end of the jib-boom and passed on opposite 
sides of the mast through 
blocks on the crosspiece to 
the stern of the boat, 
where separate cleats 
were provided for 
them. 

This com- 
pleted our 
ice boat, 
a n d a 



s/?/m£ 



Fig. 173. 

The Ice Boat 

Completed. 




Ice Boats, Sledges and Toboggans. 165 

very pretty little boat she was. It was with great reluctance 
that we furled the sails, unstepped the mast, and stowed 
away the parts in our attic until old Jack Frost should wake 
up and furnish us with a field of smooth ice. 

The Sledge. 

Our sledge was patterned after a picture of one used by 
Peary in one of his Arctic expeditions. First we got four 
strips of hickory i Inch thick, i^ inches wide and 8 feet 
long for the runners and side rails. Beginning 18 inches 
from the ends, each stick was tapered gradually to a thick- 
ness of yz an inch. Then we made eight spreaders or 
spacing blocks, each i jE^ inches 
thick, 2^/2 inches wide and ii j f^ - i>=^ 

inches long. In each end a notch 



Yz mch deep was cut to receive the s/^/9£/7J9E/? 

runners and side rails. In the edge p;^ ^^^ ^ gpacing Block, 
of each block, midway of its length, 

a slot I inch deep was cut to receive the cross sticks of the 
sledge. First we nailed the runners and rails to the blocks, 
fastening them with screws, spacing the blocks 16 inches 
from the ends, and 20 inches apart from center to center. 
Then we bent the ends of the rails and runners together, 
fastening them with bolts, as in Fig. 175. Four crosspieces, 
or floor beams, were cut out of a i-Inch board, each 2 Inches 
wide and 30 Inches long. These were fitted into the slots 
in the space blocks and secured with screws. A cross stick 



1 66 



The Scientific American Boy. 



was also fastened between the rails and runners at the for- 
ward end. On the floor beams we nailed a flooring of 
^-inch slats, 2 inches wide and 6 feet long. At the rear 








Fig. 175. The Runners and Rails Spaced Apart. 

end these slats projected 8 inches beyond the last space block 
and over them a cross slat was nailed. A stick of hickory 
4^ feet long was soaked in hot water, as described on page 
39, and was bent to an U-shape. The ends were then fitted 
over the first cross stick, and under the first floor supports, 
and securely nailed in place. Another stick of hickory 6 
feet long was similarly bent, and the ends slipped over the 
rear cross slats and fitted against the rear space blocks, in 
which position the stick was securely nailed. 

It was our intention to shoe the runners 
with strips of brass, but these were not 




Fig. 176. The Sledge. 

procurable in our village, and we had no time to go down to 
Millville. However, the village blacksmith came to our 
rescue and shod our sledge with sleigh runner iron. 



Ice Boats, Sledges and Toboggans. 167 

We had planned to make two more devices for our winter 
sports — a toboggan and a peculiar looking contrivance called 
a " rennwolf," a picture of which Dutchy happened to un- 
earth in one of his father's books. Unfortunately Bill and 
I had to return to school before either of these was com- 
pleted. However, the work was entrusted to Reddy, who 
was quite handy with tools, and Jack, who was made secre- 
tary pro tempore, took notes on the work. 

The Toboggan. 

The toboggan was made of light flexible hickory boards, 
54 of an inch thick, 6 inches wide and 8^ feet long. Three 
of these boards were used, and they were fastened together 
with cross sticks or battens, about 3 inches wide and ^ an 
inch thick. There were six of these battens spaced about 
15 inches apart, and secured to the floor boards with flathead 
screws introduced from the under side and countersunk so 
that the heads would not project below the bottom of the 
toboggan. At the forward end we screwed on a head piece 
of oak, ^ of an inch thick, i ^/^ inches wide and 20 inches 
long. The head piece was fastened to the under side of the 
boards, so that when they were curved up into a hood It 
would lie on top. The ends of the head piece, which pro- 
jected I inch each side of the boards, were notched to hold 
the rope, which was tied fast after the boards had been 
steamed. The boards were steamed by wrapping them in 
burlap for a distance of 2 feet from the forward end, and 



i68 



The Scientific American Boy. 



pouring boiling water over them, as was done with the 
snow shoes (page 39). Before bending the boards we had 
fixed screw eyes in the ends of each batten, except the forward 
//SM^/^^/- ^ one; a rope had been strung 

through these screw eyes and the 




Fig. 177. Tying Down the Head Piece of the Toboggan. 

ends were now tied to the head piece and drawn tight so as 
to bend the boards into a graceful curve. In this way the 
ropes were of service not only for curving the front end into 
a hood, but also for side rails, to hold on by when shooting 
swiftly around curves. 

The Rennwolf. 



The runners of the rennwolf were made of hickory strips, 

I inch thick, 2 inches wide and 8 
feet long. At their forward ends 




Fig. 178. The Toboggan. 

these strips were tapered down to a thickness of ^ an 
inch and curved upward. About 30 inches from the rear 
end of each runner an upright post was nailed. The post 



Ice Boats, Sledges and Toboggans. 



169 



Fig. 179. 
Dimensions 
of Rennwolf. 



n--. 



was 3 feet long and was braced by a di- 
agonal brace 24 inches long, as shown In 
Fig. 179. A tie bar was nailed to the 






r/e-- te^/9s 



/fO/v^e-^sS 




post about 6 or 8 inches from the bottom and connected with 
the forward curved end of the runner. 

The two runners were now placed parallel to each other 
about 1 8 inches apart, and connected by four cross bars, one 
at the forward end, and three on the upright posts, in about 
the positions illustrated. The upper cross bar was extended 
6 inches beyond the posts at each side, and served as a handle 
for guiding the queer craft. An 18-inch square board was 
used for the seat of the rennwolf. It rested on the second 
cross-bar of the post about 12 inches from the runners, and 
the forward end was supported on legs nailed to the tie bars. 
On each runner back of the posts a loop of leather was nailed, 
large enough to receive the toe of one shoe. 

When using this odd sled one foot would rest on the run- 
ner with the toe in the strap, and by kicking out against the 
snow or ice with the other foot the rennwolf would be made 
to spin along at a rapid rate. Of course, when coasting both 
feet would rest on the runners and the sled was steered by 
an occasional side push at the right or left. Owing to the 



i^o 



\The Scientific American Boy. 



Fig. 180. 
The Rennwolf in Use. 




great length of the runners the rennwolf would easily ride 
over uneven surfaces and thin spots in the ice. 

Ice Creepers. 

In order to provide a better hold for the propelling foot, 
we fastened around the toe a strap of leather, through which 
a number of long tacks projected. Their sharp points 
would stick into the ice, and prevent the foot from slipping. 
The seat of the rennwolf was convenient for carrying a coat 
or any light luggage, and it was often used to give a friend 
a very exhilarating ride. 




Fig. 181. The Ice Creeper. 



CHAPTER XV. 



THE SUBTERRANEAN CLUB. 

I AM afraid we were not very glad to get back to school 
that fall. It seemed very hard to give up the sport we had 
been having, and our heads were brimful of new schemes 
which we could hardly wait to put into practice. But we 
soon learned that there are many things that could be done 
during recreation hours at school. We had intended build- 
ing a cave on our island that summer, but our vacation came 
to an end before we got around to it. There seemed no 
reason why we shouldn't dig one in the woods at the back 
of the schoolhouse. 

A Cave-in. 

Bill had read somewhere that if you dig a cave under a 

tree the roots of the tree will support the ground on top and 

make a natural and substantial roof. It sounded very 

reasonable, we thought ; in fact, we never questioned the truth 

of the statement, because we had somehow gotten the notion 

that books were never wrong, and that whatever was set up 

in type must surely be so. But events proved that the man 

who wrote that book had never attempted to build a cave 

in the manner he described, at least not in the loose, 

171 



1^2 The Scientific American Boy. 

sandy soil of south Jersey. A large spreading cedar was 
selected as the tree which should support the roof of our 
cave. It was situated on a mound at the edge of the woods. 
First a passageway, or ditch, was dug at the bottom, and 
then we begun tunneling in the side of the mound under the 
roots of the tree. For a while the ground above held, and 
our tunnel had reached a length of about four feet, when 
suddenly, without the slightest warning, the sandy soil gave 
way and we were engulfed. Bill, who was furthest within 
the cave, was almost entirely covered, while I was buried to 
the shoulders. A crowd of boys came to our assistance and 
dug us out. Poor Bill was almost smothered before they 
scooped the sand away from around his mouth and nose. 
The boys made slow work of it, having to dig with their 
hands and a couple of shingles, because the two spades we 
had were buried with us at the bottom of the cave. 

Of course, this little episode gave us a scare, but it was 
only temporary. We swore every one to secrecy, so that 
Mr. Clark, the principal, wouldn't hear of the mishap and 
suppress any further cave building. It was obvious that the 
only roof we could depend on for our cave would be a 
wooden roof. If we had been at Willow Clump Island we 
would have gotten any amount of slabs from the lumber 
mills across the river. 

One of our schoolmates, a day scholar, came to the rescue. 
His name was Chester Hill, a little bit of a chap, about the 
shortest for his age that I have ever seen. His name was 
so at variance to his size that we called him " Hillock," for 



The Subterranean Club. 1 73 

short. Now Hillock lived on a farm about eight miles from 
school, and used to drive in every day on a farm wagon. 
He had helped us dig the cave under the cedar tree, and 
when he learned that we would need some lumber to build a 
safe cave, he told us that he had an uncle who owned a 
lumber mill on the Morris River, from whom he was sure 
we could get all the slabs we wanted. Of course, we were 
delighted, and laid our plans for an elaborate cave house. 
Hillock promised to be on hand on the following Saturday 
afternoon with his load of lumber. 

Excavating for the Cave. 

We immediately set out to make the necessary excavation. 
The side of a bushy knoll was chosen as a suitable site. First 
we carefully transplanted the bushes that grew in the square 
we had marked out for the cave, and cutting the sod Into 
squares, piled it all neatly to one side. Then we shoveled 
away the top-soil and heaped It up for future use. After 
that we dug away the sandy subsoil. The cave proper we 
planned to make about 8 feet by 10 feet, with a passageway 2 
feet wide and 6 feet long, leading in from a large bush at the 
base of the knoll. Our excavation was therefore somewhat 
T-shaped (see Fig. 182). At the deepest part we had to 
dig down about 10 feet. 



174 



The Scientific American Boy. 











«^i 



^,>-#-^ 



,:. -'-^^.. 






-o 1 



Fig. 182. Excavation for the Cave. 



The digging was all done by Saturday, when Hillock 
pulled up with a big load of slabs. Slabs are a very unsatis- 
factory kind of wood for most purposes. Being the outside 
cut, they are usually very irregular and weak in spots. In 
many places they are almost clear bark. Of course, had our 
pocketbooks permitted, we would have used stout scantlings 
for the corner posts of our cave house and substantial boards 
for the walls, roof and flooring, but we had to be content 
with materials at hand. Eight of the best slabs were selected 
for our corner posts; four of them we cut to the length of 
8 feet and the others to a length of 6 feet. The long slabs 
were set up at the rear of the cave, two at each corner, one 
flat against the rear wall, with its edge buried in the corner, 
and the other against the side wall, with its edge tight against 
the rear slab, as in Fig. 183. The same was done at the 



The Subterranean Club. 



175 



forward corners ^ _J"^'^ r^^^f^rs^j 

with the shorter 
slabs. A couple 
of slabs were now 
set up on each 
side of the 
passageway, and 
a corresponding 
pair against the 

rear wall. The ^'S- l^^- Framework of the Cave. 

upper and lower ends of the uprights were then connected 
with slabs, called stringpieces. 

The sides were now boarded up with upright slabs nailed 
to the stringpieces. An opening 3 feet 6 inches high was left 





0/3£A//U6 



Fig. 184. The Siding and Flooring. 

in the forward wall for a passageway. Several slabs were 
now placed on the edge across the bottom of the cave, to 



176 



The Scientific American Boy. 



serve as floor beams, upon which a flooring of slabs was 
laid. Next the rafters were set in place, one on each upright 
slab. Slots were cut in the ends of the uprights to receive 
the rafters, which were slabs placed on edge. As the for- 
ward uprights were 2 feet shorter than the rear ones, the 
rafters were given a good slant, so that the roof would 
properly shed any water that might soak in through the 
ground above. 

on the same way that 
we had made the roof 
of our tree house; that 
is, a slab was first 
nailed at the forward 
end of the rafters with 
its edge projecting far 
enough to make a good eave ; then the second slab was nailed 
on, with its edge overlapping the first, and a third with its 
edge overlapping the second, and so on with the rest. At 
the rear end of the roof a hole was cut, into which we fitted 
a piece of stovepipe. We didn't plan to have a fire in the 
house, but set the stovepipe in place to provide the necessary 
ventilation. As the pipe had an elbow in it, there was no 
danger of rain or dirt falling through it. The upper end of 
the stovepipe was concealed among some rocks at the top 
of the knoll. 

A suitable flooring was now laid in the passageway, and 
the sides were boarded up to a height of 2 feet from the 




Fig. 185. Notching in the Rafters. 



The Suhterrauean Club. 177 

floor at the entrance to a height of 3 feet 6 inches at the 
inner end. A roof of slabs was nailed on, and then we were 
ready to cover our slab house with dirt. 

Covering the Cave. 

We avoided piling on the dirt very deep, because there 
was danger of breaking in the roof with a heavy load. A 
thin layer of sand covered with the top-soil brought up the 
level to about that of the rest of the knoll. Then the sod 
was laid back in place and well watered, and the few bushes 
planted back In their original positions. Our sodding should 
have been done in the spring for best results. The frost soon 
killed the grass, and the bushes withered away. But a few 
cents' worth of grass seed was sowed in, and in time gave 
the knoll a very natural appearance. A bush at the bottom 
concealed the entrance of the cave, so that no one who was 
not in the secret would have suspected that beneath that 
innocent looking knoll were gathered the members of the 
" Big Bug Club." 

The Big Bug Club. 

Of course, we had to organize a secret society, to occupy 
our subterranean dwelling. In that I fear we overstepped 
the rules of the school. Of course, Mr. Clark knew of our 
cave, in fact he visited us there once, lowering his dignity 
sufficiently to squeeze into the narrow passageway, and 
playing Bill a game of chess at our club table. He seemed 



The Scientific American Boy. 




'v;i//'i' 






3 v^'^X 



The Subterranean Club. 1 79 

quite pleased with our work, and complimented us very 
highly on the masterful way in which we had built the under- 
ground house. We told him that we had organized a club 
of the older fellows to play indoor games and have occasional 
spreads, but we did not tell him that most of our spreads 
were held at the dead of night, when there was no moon and 
the stars were hidden by clouds. At 10 o'clock each night 
the bell rang for us to turn out our lights, and after that the 
six members would each, in turn, keep a half-hour watch, that 
is, first one would sit up and try to keep awake for half an 
hour, after which he would waken the next fellow, who at 
the end of a half hour would rouse the third, and so on, until 
I o'clock, when the sixth watcher would wake up the entire 
club. Then we would all creep out the back window in the 
hall, onto the roof of the rear annex of the schoolhouse, and 
thence climb down a rope ladder to the ground. 

Midnight Banquets. 

I suppose we could have just as easily have tiptoed down- 
stairs and out the back door, but it would have spoiled the 
romance of it all. The absolute stillness and the pitch-black 
darkness of the night were awe-inspiring. The roll of a 
pebble or the crack of a twig under foot would set us all 
atingle as we stole out to our cave house. Sometimes the 
night was so black that we could hardly find the entrance of 
the cave. Once inside, in the light of a few candles, the 



i8o 



The Scientific American Boy. 



nervous tension was relieved, and we reveled in a banquet 
of cold victuals and dainties, purchased out of the monthly 
club dues. Our meetings in the cave lasted scarcely half an 
hour. In fact, the meeting, and even the banquet, were mere 
incidentals. The main enjoyment consisted in stealing out 
to the cave and back again, always at the risk of getting 
caught. Usually when we got to bed again we would be too 
excited to fall asleep right away, and when we did finally 
drop off our sleep was so sound that several times the break- 
fast bell caught one or more of us still napping. 

The Club Pin. 

The only other charm our secret club 
afforded was the wearing of a mysterious 
club pin. It was a silver beetle, with the 
letter G engraved on the head and the letter 
B on the body, while down the center of the 
back was the letter I (see Fig. 187). In 
public we called ourselves the G. I. B.'s, but 
it was only the initiated members who knew that these letters 
were to be read backward, and, with the beetle on which they 
were engraved, signified the " Big Bugs." Of course, we 
had some secret signs and signals, a secret hand grasp, a 
peculiar whistle as a warning to run, another meaning " lie 
still," and a third signifying " all is well." 




Fig. 187. 
The Club Pin. 



The Subterranean Club, i8i 

The Combination Lock. 

We found it necessary to close the entrance of our cave 
with a door fastened with a padlock, so as to keep meddlers 
out. The entire school had watched us build the cave house, 
and, of course, knew just where our entrance lay. Then, in 
addition to the outer door, we put in another one, half-way 
down the dark passageway. On this Bill rigged up a simple 
combination lock which would baffle any one who managed 
to pick the padlock. This inner door opened outward. It 
was hinged to the floor of the passageway, and swung up 
against a frame set in the passageway. At the top was a 
board whose lower edge lay flush with the edge of the door 
when it was closed. For the combination lock we used a 
couple of spools, each with one head cut off and the central 
hole plugged up with a stick of wood. In the door and the 
top board of the frame, holes were drilled just large enough 
for the shanks of the spools to fit snugly in them. Next we 
made a trip to a hardware store for a file and a couple of 
large copper washers, about i % inches in diameter. The 
washers were fastened to the inner ends of the spools after 
they had been pushed through the hole. The washer on 
the door came just to the edge of the door, while the other 
extended below the door frame and lapped under the door 
washer. Then in the edge of the washer on the frame a 
notch was filed, while in the other washer two notches were 
filed, so as to leave a tooth which fitted snugly into the notch 
of the first washer (see Figs. i88, 189). The door was 



l82 



The Scientific American Boy. 





Fig. 188. The 
Notched Washers. 



Fig. 189. 

Washers Fastened 
on Spools. 



locked by turning both the washers until the notch and tooth 
came in line with each other, then pushing the tooth through 
the notch, and turning the washers so that the frame washer 
hooked over the door washer. Then the door could be 
opened only when the tooth and notch were brought in line. 
On the head of each spool 
we pasted a disk of white 
cardboard, the edge of which 
was graduated, as in Fig. 190. 
Then we had a secret com- 
bination, say 11-19, which 
meant that when the spools 
were turned so that the num- 
ber II on the door spool came 
in line with the number 19 on the frame spool the tooth and 
notch would be in line, and the door could then be opened. 
Of course, this combination was known to the members of 
the club only, and any one outside who tried to open the 
door might have tried for some time without bringing the 
tooth and notch into line with each other. Occasionally 
we changed the combination by loosening the screws which 

held the washers, and turning them 
so that the notch and tooth came 
opposite different numbers on the 
dials. This was done so that if 
any one should chance to learn our 
combination he could not make use 
of it very long. 






/Zi^R r/f^ME 



e 



Fig. 190. 
The Combination Lock. 



CHAPTER XVI. 



SCOOTERS. 



" Hello, Dutchy ! What in thunder have you got there?" 
It was Bill who spoke. We were on our way home for 
the winter holidays, and had been held up at Millville by 
Reddy Schreiner, who had informed us that Dutchy was 
down by the river with the boat to give us a sail up to 
Lamington. 

A vision of a fleet ice boat skimming up the river at ex- 
press train speed swam before our eyes. But the next mo- 
ment, as we turned the corner into River Street, we were 
surprised by the sight of our old scow just off the pier at 
anchor, and in open water. It was rigged up with a jib 
and mainsail, which were flapping idly in the wind. It had 
also been altered by decking over the top, with the exception 
of a small cockpit, evidently for the purpose of keeping out 
the water when she heeled over under the wind. We were 
disappointed and quite annoyed at not finding the ice boat 
on hand; furthermore, our annoyance was considerably 
heightened by Dutchy's broad grin of evident delight at our 
discomfiture. " The river wasn't all frozen over," he ex- 
plained, " and we couldn't bring the ice boat down, so we 

rigged up the scow and she came down splendidly." 

183 



184 The Scientific American Boy. 

A Sail in the Scow. 

There was nothing to do but to jump in, though I, for one, 
would have taken the train in preference had there been 
one Inside of two hours. Dutchy, however, seemed to be In 
a surprisingly good humor, and kept up a Hvely chatter about 
things that the club had made in our absence. The skis, 
which have already been described on page 42, had been 
built under Reddy's guidance, and they had already used 
them on Wlllard's Hill, coasting down like a streak and 
shooting way up Into the air off a hump at the bottom. Then 
there was the toboggan slide down Randall's Hill, and way 
across the river on the ice. 

Our Craft Strikes the Ice. 

Dutchy talked so incessantly that we hadn't noticed the 
field of Ice which we were nearlng. Just at this point Bill 
turned around with an exclamation. 

" Here, Dutchy, you crazy fellow, where are you going to? 
Hard to port, man — hard aport — or you will crash into 
the Ice ! " 

But Dutchy only grinned nervously. 

" I tell you, you will smash the boat! " Bill cried again, 
making a dive for the steering oar; but just then the boat 
struck the ice, and both Bill and I were thrown backward 
Into the bottom of the boat. But the boat didn't smash. 



Scooters. 185 

There was a momentary grinding and crunching noise, and, 
much to my surprise, I found that the old scow had lifted 
itself clean out of the water, and was skating right along on 
the Ice. Then Dutchy could control himself no longer. He 
laughed, and laughed, as if he never would stop. He laughed 
until the steering oar dropped from his hands, and the old 
scow, with the head free, swung around and plunged off 
the ice ledge with a heavy splash into the open water again. 
Then Reddy, who was almost equally convulsed, came to 
his senses. " Now you've done it, Dutchy; you're a fine 
skipper, you are ! How do you expect to get us back to shore 
again? " The steering oar was left behind us on the ice, and 
there we were drifting on the open water, with no rudder and 
no oar to bring us back. 

The Scooter Scow. 

The only thing ^/f(//rv£/?6- 

we could do was to 




wait until the wind 
or current carried us 
to the Ice or land. ^'^- ^^^- ^'°^ """''^ ^"""''' "^^'"^ °"- 
In the meantime Dutchy, who had suddenly sobered down 
when we took our water plunge, explained how he had rigged 
up the scow to travel both on Ice arid on water. He called 
the rig a sled boat, but the name by which such a rig is now 
known is a " scooter." It was Dutchy's idea primarily, but 
Reddy had engineered the work. Along the bottom of the 



1 86 



The Scientific American Boy, 



scow two strips of hickory had been nailed to serve as runners. 
The hickory strips had been bent up at the forward end, as 
shown In Fig. 191. Each runner was shod with a strip of 
brass, fastened on with flathead screws, which were counter- 
sunk, so that the heads should not project below the brass. 
This virtually made a sledge out of the old scow, and didn't 
spoil it for use on the water. 



A Sprit Sail. 

A sprit sail and 
jib were rigged up. 
The dimensions of 
these sails, which 
were taken from a 
book in Mr. Van 
Syckel's library, 
are given in the 
Illustrations. A 
sheet of heavy 
muslin was made 
to measure 7 feet 

square, as indicated by dotted lines In the drawing; then the 
corners were cut off along the full lines shown in the Illustra- 
tion. The edges were now hemmed all around, and the lower 
edge of the sail was lashed to a boom, 7 feet 6 inches long. 
To the luff were attached a number of mast rings, which were 




Scooters. 



187 



slipped over a stout mast projecting about 5 feet 6 inches 
above the deck of the boat. The peak of the sail was held 
up by a spar called a sprit. The sprit was sharpened at each 
end, and the point at the upper end was inserted in a loop of 
heavy cord fastened to the peak of the sail, 
while the lower point of the sprit rested in 
the loop of a rope on the 
mast, called a " snotter." The 
snotter was a short piece of rope 
with a loop at each end. It was 
wrapped around the mast, as shown 
in the drawing, with one loop holding 
it in place, like a slip knot, and the other 
supporting the end of the sprit. A single 
halyard was used to raise this sail. It was 
attached to the boat and passed over a block 
in the mast. When raising the sail it was first 
partly hoisted, then the sprit was hooked in 
the loop and the snotter, after which the 

throat halyard was drawn taut. Then the snotter 
was pulled up the mast as far as it would go, flat- 
tening out the sail. The jib-sail was made 
out of the large corner piece left when cut- 
ting the mainsail. The dimensions of 
the jib-sail are given in Fig. 194. 
It was such a small sail that no 
boom was used with it. In place of 

Fig. 194. 

Jib-sail of Scooter Scow. a rudder the Steering oar had to be 




Fig. 193. 
The Snotter. 




l88 The Scientific American Boy. 

used. This was made of a rake handle with a large trowel 
blade fastened to the end of it. The sharp blade cut into the 
ice, and so steered the scow when it was running as an ice 
boat, and in the water the blade offered sufficient resistance 
to act as a rudder. 



Scooter Sailing. 

But to return to our sail home to Lamington, we were not 
out on the open water long before the current carried us 
back to the ice ledge. Reddy jumped off and soon returned 
with the steering oar; then we proceeded on our way home- 
ward, now in the water and now on ice. Once or twice the 
scow was unable to climb out of the water, because she had 
not sufficient headway, and was clumsy and heavy with four 
boys aboard. Then we had to push off until we could get a 
sufficient start. It struck me that while Dutchy was quite 
clever to think of such a rig, yet it was very clumsy and 
capable of much improvement. Bill wasn't saying very much 
all this time, and I could see he was doing a lot of thinking. 
Evidently he was planning some improvement, but Bill was 
a very considerate fellow, and did not want to spoil Dutchy's 
pleasure just then by telling him how much better a scooter 
he might have built. It wasn't until after supper, when 
a meeting of the S. S. I. E. E. of W. C. I. was called, that 
Bill came out with his scheme. 



Scooters. 189 

A Meeting of the Society. 

" Why not mount the sailing canoe on runners, instead of 
the scow? You would have a very light rig then, and It 
would sail like a streak." 

" Mr. President," said Reddy, " your plan sounds first- 
rate, but how are you going to fasten runners onto the 
canoe .'' 

" I've thought all that out," replied Bill. " If we can only 
get hold of a pair of sleigh runners it won't take long to rig 
up the sled boat." 

Dutchy, who had looked rather crestfallen at a suggestion 
of an Improvement on his pet Invention, now suddenly 
brightened up. 

" I know where we can get the sleigh runners! " he ex- 
clairned. " Dad has an old ramshackle sleigh In the barn 
that is just falling to pieces with dry rot. I'll ask him for 
it to-night." 

" Do you think you can get It? " inquired Bill. 

" I guess so," Dutchy answered, rather doubtfully. " But 
say, suppose we send a delegation to see him about It? " 

An Interview with Mr. Van Syckel. 

This was agreed upon, and in the morning, as soon as 
breakfast had been downed, the entire society marched In a 
body into Mr. Van Syckel's library. I was appointed 
spokesman, with Bill to back me, while the rest of the party 



I90 



The Scientific American Boy. 



were strung out behind, with Dutchy bringing up the rear. 
Mr. Van Syckel was not the man to take much interest in 
boys' work, but we happened to strike him at the right mo- 
ment, and before our interview was over we had told him 
all our experiences of the summer before and all our plans 
for the future. Then we did a good turn for Dutchy, too. 
Mr. Van Syckel had always considered his boy a " know- 
nothing," and was very much surprised to find that he had 
invented the scooter scow. Why, he actually seemed proud 
of his son, much to Dutchy's embarrassment. After that 
there was no trouble about getting the sleigh runners, and 
Mr. Van Syckel forgot the objections he had offered at first. 

The Scooter Canoe. 

Naturally we were very much elated at our success, and 
straightway made for the barn, where we began operations 
on the scooter canoe. The sleigh was an old-fashioned affair, 
with rather broad wooden runners. First we removed the 




Fig. 195. Runners of Scooter Canoe. 



body of the sleigh, and then the runners were cut down to a 
height of about 15 inches. We spaced them apart about 
28 inches, and connected them with four crosspleces at the 



Scooters. 



191 




Fig. 196. The Scooter Canoe. 



top. The runners were now placed over our larger canoe, 
with forward ends about on a line with the mast, and the 
crosspieces were fastened with screws to the gunwales. As 
an additional security, a pair of crosspieces were now run 
under the canoe at each end and fastened with screws to the 
keel. At the bow the keel was shod with a strip of brass. 
The rudder was taken off the boat, and an oar lock was 
fastened to the stern to hold the steering oar. In place of 
lee boards we nailed a couple of thin boards over each 



192 The Scientific American Boy. 

runner, as shown in the drawing. We were in a hurry to 
finish this, as our vacation was short, so we used on the 
scooter canoe the sails that we had made for our ice boat. 
This required a bowsprit, but as we had little time to spare 
we used the jib-boom of the ice boat, nailing it to the deck 
beam of the canoe. We decided that the jib-sail could be 
used without a boom, as we had done with the scow. The 
mast was braced by stays attached to the ends of the runners 
and bowsprit. This spread of canvas was far greater than 
that originally provided for sailing the canoe, but the heavy 
runners on each side helped to keep the boat on even keel, 
and then to further balance the sail a board was nailed across 
the aft end of the boat. This o^ erhung the runners about 18 
inches each side, and in a strong wind we could sit out on the 
windward end of this board, thus preventing the scooter 
from heeling over too far. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

AN ARCTIC EXPEDITION. 

As soon as our scooter canoe was completed we prepared 
for the long-planned winter expedition to Willow Clump 
Island. The weather conditions were Ideal. We had had 
ten days of steady cold weather, which had followed a heavy 
fall of snow, so that we could tramp up the Island on snow 
shoes, or we could use our scooter canoe and scooter scow on 
the river. It was out of the question to use our skate sails 
or the ice boat on the river, and the canal would be service- 
able only in case the wind should blow from a southerly 
quarter. But we stowed them on the sledge for use on 
Lake Placid. 

On the Tuesday morning following Christmas we made the 
start. Bill In the scooter canoe and Dutchy in the scooter 
scow sailed up the river, and the rest of us, on snow shoes, 
took the tow path of the canal, hauling the sledge along. We 
carried provisions for a week and a good supply of blankets. 
The Island was reached without mishap, except that Dutchy 
had to be helped several times in dragging the heavy scow 
around the rapids. Bill reached the island long before we 
did, and after unloading the canoe came racing back under 
a stiff breeze for a second load. Then he took his turn at 

193 



194 ^'^^ Scientific American Boy. 

hauling the sledge, while Reddy sailed the reloaded scooter 
canoe up to the island. 



Willow Clump Island in Winter. 

We brought no tent with us, as we expected to take up 
our quarters in the straw hut. When we reached the hut we 
hardly recognized it. It was almost completely covered with 
snow and looked like an Eskimo house. The snow had 
drifted well up over the north side, completely closing the 
entrance. We had to set to work at once with a shovel and 
open up a passageway, and then we had to shovel out a large 
pile of snow that had drifted into the hut from the open 
doorway. 

Kindling a Camp Fire. 

In the meantime Jack scoured the island for some dry 
wood. In this he was not very successful, because every- 
thing was covered with snow, and when he tried to kindle a 
fire in the open space in front of our hut he found the task 
an exceedingly difficult one. Unfortunately we forgot to 
bring the oil stove with us, and the prospect of something 
warm to eat was exceedingly remote. We hadn't yet learned 
the trick of building a camp fire in wet weather. After ex- 
hausting our stock of paper Fred and I started over to 
Lumberville for several newspapers and a can of kerosene. 
We went to old Jim Halliday's, who had befriended us on 



An Arctic Expedition. 



195 



one or two occasions the previous summer, and made known 
to him our troubles. 

" What! A can of oil to build yer fire with? Well, ye 
won't git It from me. I know a man as got blowed up 
apourln' oil on a fire. Why, shucks, boys, you don't need no 
oil ner paper nuther on that there Island. Its chuck-full of 
sliver birch trees, and there ain't no better klndlln' than 
birch bark." 

Birch bark! Why, yes, why hadn't we thought of that? 
We had used It for torches the summer before and knew 
how nicely It burned. So back we skated to camp, and then, 
peeling off a large quantity of bark from the birch trees 
around us, we soon had a rousing big fire In front of the hut. 



The Outdoor Fireplace. 

But there were more things 
to be learned about open fires. 
In our summer outing Jack 
had done most of his cook- 
ing on a kerosene stove, 
and he soon found that it 
was a very different matter 
to cook over an unsheltered 
fire. The heat was constantly carried hither and thither by 
the gusts of wind, so that he could scarcely warm up his 
saucepans. We had to content ourselves with cold victuals 
for the first meal, but before the next meal time came around 




Fig. 197. 
An Outdoor Cooking Fire. 



196 The Scientific American Boy. 

we had learned a little more about fire building. Two large 
logs were placed about 10 inches apart, and the space be- 
tween them was filled in with pieces of bark and small twigs 
and sticks. The back of the fireplace was closed with 
stones. One touch of a match was enough to kindle the fire, 
and in a moment it blazed up beautifully. The logs at the 
sides and the stones at the back prevented the wind from 
scattering the flames in all directions, and a steady draft 
poured through the open end of the fireplace and up through 
the heart of the fire. The side logs were so close together 
that our cooking utensils could be supported directly on them. 

A Stone-paved Fireplace. 

The following summer we continued our open fireplace 
experiments. Instead of using logs we drove stakes into 
the ground, forming a small circular stockade about 2 feet 
high and 3 feet in diameter. A paving of small stones cov- 
ered the floor of the fireplace, and a lining of stones was laid 
against the wall. The stakes were driven in on a slant, as 
illustrated in Fig. 198, so as to better support the stone 
lining. A break in the stockade at one side let in the nec- 
essary draft. Two of the stakes on opposite sides of the fire 
were made extra long, and were crotched at their upper 
ends. They served to support the cross stick from which our 
kettles were hung. This form of fireplace was more satis- 
factory for baking than the one in which logs were used for 
the side walls, because the stone lining retained the heat much 



An Arctic Expedition. 



197 




longer. To bake biscuit, a pot of beans, or the like, 
the ashes would be drawn away from the stone paving 
and the pot placed directly on the hot stones, after which 
It was covered with hot 
embers and ashes. 

A Cold Night in 
the Hut. 

But to return to our 
experiences on the island. 
We found it very cold on 
the first night in the hut. 
We were afraid to build 
a fire Inside lest the 
straw thatchings would 
catch fire, and so we 

huddled together in the corner, rolled up tightly in our 
blankets. But it was cold, nevertheless. We had no door 
to close the opening into the hut, and Instead had piled up 
branches of cedar and hemlock against the doorway. But 
a bitterly cold northwest wind was blowing down the river, 
and we couldn't keep warm, no matter what we did. Most 
of the boys were ready to go right home, but we stuck it out 
until the morning, and then after we had toasted ourselves 
before a blazing bright fire, and had eaten a hot breakfast, 
we forgot much of the discomfort of the night and were 
ready for more " fun." We thought we would spend the 
next night In our tree house, and so, right after breakfast, 



Fig. 198. 
A Stone-paved Fireplace. 



198 The Scientific American Boy. 

we packed up our blankets and some provisions and started 
for the Jacob's Ladder. 

Mountain Climbing. 

Each fellow was provided with a pair of ice creepers of 
the same sort as we had used in connection with the rennwolf 
(see page 170). In addition to this each boy was provided 
with a home-made alpine stock, consisting of a stout wooden 
stick in the end of which a large nail was driven and the 
head filed off. Thus equipped we came to the foot of the 
cliff, and much to our delight found it one mass of ice from 
top to bottom. Now was our chance to try some Swiss 
mountain climbing. Bill took the lead, with an old hatchet 
in his hand, to hack out any necessary footholds In the ice 
wall, and the rest of us strung out behind him tied to a long 
rope, each boy about 10 or 12 feet from the one ahead. BUI 
cautioned us to keep our distance, holding the rope taut in 
one hand, so that If a fellow stumbled he could be kept from 
falling either by the one In front or by the one behind. 

*' Besides," he said, " if the rope drags on the ice. It is 
liable to be cut or worn so that It will break when any strain 
was put on It." 

Now, one would think from all these precautions that we 
were launched on a perilous expedition. That was the Im- 
pression we were trying to make on ourselves, though, as a 
matter of fact, any one of us could have climbed the cliff 
unaided and without any Ice implements If he had used 



An Arctic Expedition. 



199 




Fig. 199. Winter Expedition to the Goblins' Platform. 

ordinary care not to slip on the Ice-clad ladder rounds or the 
snow-covered ledges. 



A Poor Shelter. 

The climb was without mishap and we reached our tree 
house, only to find it so badly racked by storm and weather 
that it was clearly out of the question to attempt to spend 
the night there. The wind howled around the house and 
whistled through dozens of cracks and chinks that had 
opened in the walls. All that we could do, therefore, was 
to turn back to the island and make the best of our straw 



200 The Scientific American Boy. 

hut again. On the way, however, we stopped at Lumber- 
ville for some straw to be used for bedding. The afternoon 
was spent sailing around on Lake Placid and the large 
smooth stretch above the island. 

A Costly Camp Fire. 

After supper Bill and Reddy went into the hut to arrange 
the straw bedding, while the rest of us gathered wood for a 
huge bonfire in front of the hut. The wind was blowing 
right down the river and we expected It to carry the warmth 
of the fire Into the hut. The fire was built some distance 
In front of the doorway, so as to prevent the hut from catch- 
ing fire. But we had evidently miscalculated the strength of 
the wind, for no sooner was the fire fairly started than a 
shower of flaming brands was blown right into the hut. In 
a moment the straw blazed up, cutting off all escape for Bill 
and Reddy. Fortunately the framing was not strong 'and 
the frost had loosened up the foundations, so that a few 
frantic kicks opened an exit in the rear of the hut just In 
time to save our comrades from cremation. Once it was 
fairly started we were powerless to put out the blaze until 
the hut was ruined. The snow that covered the walls 
checked the fire somewhat, but the thatching burned from 
the Inside, melting the snow and dropping it suddenly into 
the flaming straw bedding on the floor. As we sat In a 
gloomy ring about the camp fire, watching the tongues of 
flame play about the charred ribs of our hut, we had reason 




Bill Gets Tangled up with His Skis. 




Warming the Lunch on a Cold Dav. 



An Arctic Expedition. 201 

to be thankful that the wind had played Its pranks before we 
turned in for the night. What a risk we had run of being 
all burned to death! It made me shudder to think of it. 
Well, our hut was burned. What next? That was the 
question put before the society. 

" Might build a snow hut," suggested Dutchy. 

" Now, be sensible," answered Reddy. " We can't build a 
snow hut in five minutes." 

" The best plan," I volunteered, " would be to go over 
to Jim Halliday's and ask him to let us sleep in his barn." 

Immediately the suggestion was acted upon. 

A Friend in Time of Trouble. 

Old Jim Halliday greeted us very gruffly. He said he 
wouldn't have us in his barn. " You'll be amussin' up the 
hay so't wouldn't be fit fer the horses to eat. Any boy that 
is fool enough to build a fire on a straw bed ought to go 
right home to his mother, and he hadn't oughter be trusted 
with matches, nuther. He might get his fingers burned." 

But I caught a twinkle in the old man's eyes and wasn't 
surprised to have him end his lecture by taking us into the 
kitchen and seating us around an old-fashioned log fire while 
" Marthy," his daughter, made us some hot coffee to take 
the chill out of our bones. We didn't sleep in the barn that 
night. The Hallidays had only one spare bed, hardly 
enough for six boys, and the old man didn't want to be partial 
to any two of us, but his daughter solved the difficulty by 



202 The Scientific American Boy. 

dragging down two large feather mattresses and laying them 
on the kitchen floor in front of the hearth. 

Before bidding us " good night," Mr. Halllday put on his 
sternest expression and bade Marthy clear out all the matches 
from the room. 

" Jest as like as not they'll set lire to the house," he 
growled. " I expect this Is my last night on alrth." And 
then, with a solemn warning not to hang our clothes on the 
flames, and to " keep them feather beds offen the embers," 
he left us to a comfortable night's rest. 

In the morning, after we had disposed of all the hot 
griddle cakes we could eat, and had sincerely thanked our 
host and hostess for their hospitality, we wended our way 
back to the island, silently packed up our goods and started 
home for Lamlngton. 

" Well, this Isn't going to happen again," was Bill's com- 
ment. " Next year we'll have a log cabin on the island." 




l""ast Asleep in a Sleeping Bag. 




How the Pack Harness was Worn. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 



TRAMPING OUTFITS. 



Our winter expedition to Willow Clump Island filled us 
with a wholesome respect for Arctic explorers. If we could 
find it so uncomfortable with the thermometer only at lo 
degrees above zero, what would It be to endure a temperature 
of 40, 50 or even 60 degrees below zero? We were in- 
terested to learn how they managed to stand it. This led to 
a study of the subject in Mr. Van Syckel's library. 

Sleeping Bags. 

In one of the books Dutchy came across the description of 
a sleeping bag. It was made of reindeer's skin sewed into 
a large bag with the fur side turned in. This bag was large 
enough to hold three or four sleepers, and each man was 
covered with a pair of woolen bags, one bag slipped inside 
the other. The woolen bags were made of blankets sewed 
together and provided with flaps at the upper ends to cover 
the head of the sleeper. 

Of course, we had to make a sleeping bag, too. The inner- 
most bag was made of an old quilt and the next one of a 
blanket that we were fortunate enough to get hold of. But 
when it came to the reindeer skin we were balked, until we 

203 



204 The Scientific American Boy. 

happened to run across a piece of rubber sheeting at the 
village store. This was a lucky find, for I doubt if one 
country store in a hundred carries such stock. The piece 
was just large enough to cover the blanket bag and allow 
for an ample flap to cover the head. To be sure, this fur- 
nished a shelter for only one person, and there were six in the 
society. It was clear that the treasury could not afford the 
expense of six sleeping bags; but as such a device would be 
useful only under very unusual circumstances we decided that 
two sleeping bags would be all the society would need. We 
had been rather curious to explore the country back of the 
hills on the Pennsylvania side of the river, and with some 
light provisions and these sleeping bags strapped to the back 
a couple of boys could make quite an extended tour, un- 
mindful of weather conditions. On real hot nights a fellow 
could get into the quilt bag and sleep on the blanket and 
waterproof bag. In cold weather the combination of all three 
bags provided sufficient warmth. The rubber bag would 
protect the sleeper from any moisture in the ground, and 
would also keep him thoroughly dry, even in a pouring rain. 

Bill's "Mummy Case." 

Our second sleeping bag was Bill's own design, and was, in 
many respects, an improvement on the first, though It looked 
ridiculously like an Egyptian mummy case. The inner bags 
were just like those of the first sleeping bag, but as there was 
no more rubber sheeting in town we had to make the outer 



Tramping Outfits. 



205 



bag of enameled cloth, such as is used for carriage curtains. 
Out of this cloth Bill cut a piece of the shape shown in Fig. 
200 to serve as bottom, sides and ends of the sleeping bag. 
The bag was sewed wrong side 
out; that is, the piece was laid 




Fig. 200. Bottom Piece of Sleeping Bag, 



with enameled side up, and then the corners were sewed 
together after painting the seams with white lead. Then a 
top piece was cut out, of the size indicated in Fig. 201. The 




c)-'-2" 



'fior>//it 



Fig. 201. 
Top Piece of Sleeping Bag. 




Fig. 202. Headboards. 



edges were hemmed over a piece of rope, which thus formed 
a corded edge. Now, with the enameled side of the cover 
piece turned inward, its edges were sewed to the edges of the 



2o6 



The Scientific American Boy. 



first piece. The bag was now turned inside out, so that the 
enameled surface lay on the outside and the seams turned in- 
ward. The corded edge on the cover piece lapped over the 
sides, forming a watershed. 

It was Bill's idea to rig up the flap in such a manner that 
it would not lie against the face, 
so that the sleeper could 
have plenty of fresh air, 




Fig. 203. The Mummy Case. 

even in rainy weather. This required the use of two head- 
boards, of the form shown in Fig. 202. The headboards 
were connected at the bottom by a thin board, and to this 




Fig. 204. Sleeping Bag in Use. 

framework the sides of the bag were nailed. To the end 
flap several cleats were nailed, adapted to fit into notches 
cut in the headboards. The cleat at the end of the flap was 



Tramping Outfits. 



207 



laid on edge, as shown, and fitted into deep notches in the 
headboards just above the edge of the cover piece. This held 
the flap securely, preventing it from flying open in a heavy 
wind. At the same time the small space between the flap 
and the cover piece allowed for an ample supply of fresh air. 
When using this sleeping bag, if there was any indication of 
a shower, we took care to have the head pointed to windward 
so as to prevent entrance of rain through this air space. 

The "A" Tent. 




Fig. 205. The "A" Tent. 



In connection with the sleeping bags it may be well to de- 
scribe here a curious shelter Dutchy and I came across in one 
of our tramps. It was just about dusk one day when we dis- 
covered a temporary camp at which a couple of men were 
preparing dinner. They informed us that they were natural- 
ists on a two weeks' outing. At their Invitation we joined 



208 



The Scientific American Boy. 



camp with them. They had a small "A" tent of balloon silk, 
under which they kept their provisions. The tent had no 
ridge pole, but was supported instead by a rope stretched 
between two trees (see Fig. 205). 



A Camp Chair. 

The camp was also 
furnished with an easy 
canvas chair, made by 
driving a couple of short 
posts in the ground for 
front legs and a pair of 
longer ones for the back. A piece of canvas was hung over 
these posts, forming both seat and back. The posts were 
driven into the ground on a slant, as illustrated in Fig. 206, 

and the canvas was formed 




Fig. 206. The Camp Chair. 







Fig. 207. 
Pockets in the 
Canvas Back. 




with pockets at the corners 
which were hooked over these 
posts. This made a very com- 
fortable chair, though, of 
course, it was fixed to one spot. 
When the men moved camp 
they would carry with them 

only the canvas piece, and at the next stopping place new 

posts were chopped and used for legs. 




\\'aitin<? for a Bite. 




Temporary Shelter under an "A" lent 



Tramping Outfits. 



209 



The Camp Bed. 




Fig. 208. Canvas Bed. 

But what interested us most was the form of bed they had. 
This, like the hair, consisted of a piece of canvas arranged 
to be supported on posts cut from the woods in the neighbor- 
hood of the camp. The canvas piece was 3 feet wide and 6 
feet long, with a wide hem at each side, forming pockets 
through which poles were passed, as in a stretcher. The 
ends of the poles were supported on posts driven into the 
ground. The poles were also propped up at the center, as 




Fig. 209. Bed Set up on Posts. 



2IO 



The Scietili/jc Ainerican Boy. 



shown, the pockets being cut away and bound, so as not to 
permit any wear on the canvas. To prevent the posts from 
leaning Inward under the 
weight of the sleeper, 
they were braced apart by 
cross sticks. 

The Camp Bed in a 
Shower. 

As a precaution 
against rain, a tall post 
was set up at the head 
and another at the foot 
of the bed, and a rope 
was stretched over the 
posts with the ends fast- 
ened to stakes driven 
into the ground. Over this rope a rubber " poncho " 
was laid to keep off the rain. A " poncho," by the way. Is a 
blanket of rubber cloth about 4^ feet wide and 6 feet long, 

J. 




Fig. 210. A Poncho. 




XijrrWimi 



Fig. 211, Camp Bed in the Rain. 



Tramping Outfits. 



211 




Fig. 212. 
Umbrella 
with Fly. 



in the center of which is a slit 
through which you can put 
your head; then the rubber 
cloth falls over you 
like a cape, as in 
Fig. 210, and makes 
a perfect protection against rain. The 
ponchos these men had were not quite 
long enough to cover the whole bed, so 
they fastened umbrellas to the head 
posts, as shown in Fig. 2i i. During a shower in the woods 
the rain comes straight down in large drops, caused by the 
water collecting on the leaves. To prevent these large drops 
from splashing through the umbrellas, they laid pieces of 
cloth over the umbrellas, which served, like the fly of a tent, 
to check the fall of rain drops. 



A Nightmare. 

I slept in the mummy case that night and Dutchy in the 
first sleeping bag. It must have been about midnight when I 
was awakened by a most unearthly yell. It sent the cold chills 
running up and down my back. A second scream brought me 
Into action, and I struggled to throw back the head flap, 
which had become caught. It seemed an age before I could 
open it and wriggle out of the bag. Dutchy was sitting up 
in bed with a look of horror on his face, and his whole body 
was in a tremor of fear. One of the men dashed a glass of 
water in his face, which brought him back to his senses. It 



2T2 The Scientific American Boy. 

was only a nightmare, we found. Dutchy dreamed he had 
been injured in a railway accident and had been taken for 
dead to the morgue. He tried to let them know that he was 
alive, but couldn't utter a sound, until finally he burst out with 
the yells that roused the camp. Then, as he awoke with the 
horror of the dream still on him, his eyes fell on the two 
stretcher beds that looked like biers and the black coffin-like 
sleeping bag. It was not much wonder that Dutchy was 
frightened. The camp did certainly have a most ghastly 
appearance in the vague moonlight that filtered through the 
trees, and it must have been still more gruesome to see the 
coffin and biers suddenly burst open and the corpses come 
running toward him. To prevent any further nightmare we 
set Dutchy's sleeping bag under the "A" tent, where he would 
be saved the horror of again waking up in a morgue. 

Pack Harness. 

In the morning our friends broke camp and started west- 
ward. Dutchy and I watched them packing up their goods 
into a couple of very compact bundles, which they strapped to 
their backs with a peculiar pack harness. I took careful note 
of the way the harness was put together, and when we re- 
turned to the island we made two sets for use on our tramping 
expeditions. A canvas yoke was first cut out to the form 
shown in Fig. 213. We used two thicknesses of the heaviest 
brown canvas we could find, binding the two pieces together 
with tape. The yoke was padded with cotton at the shoul- 



Tramping Outfits. 



213 




Fig. 213. Pack Harness. 



ders and a strap was 
fastened to each 
shoulder piece. 
These were ar- 
ranged to be buckled 
to a pair of straps 
fastened to the back 
,of the yoke and 
passing under the 
arms. Riveted to 
these straps were a 
pair of straps used for fastening on the pack. The yoke 
straps were attached with the rough side against the yoke, 
while the pack straps were riveted on with the rough side 
uppermost, as indicated in the drawing. 

Riveting. 

The method of riveting to- 
gether the leather straps may 
need a word of explanation. A 
copper rivet was passed through 
a hole in the two straps ; then the 
washer was slipped over the pro- 
jecting end of the rivet. This washer had to be jammed 
down tight against the leather, and to do this we drilled a 
hole of the diameter of the rivet in a block of wood, and put- 
ting this block over the washer, with the end of the rivet pro- 




Fig. 214. 
Riveting the Straps Together. 



214 The Scientific American Boy. 

jecting into the hole, we hammered the block until the washer 
was forced down tight against the leather. Then taking a 
light tack hammer we battered down the end of the rivet 
onto the washer. Care was taken to do this hammering 
very lightly, otherwise the end would have been bent over 
instead of being flattened. 



CHAPTER XIX, 



THE LAND YACHT. 



Only one thing of Importance occurred between our 
Christmas holidays and Eastertide: this was Bill's invention 
of the tricycle sailboat or land yacht. We had returned to 
school with sailing on the brain. Our skate sail served us 
well enough while there was any ice, but as spring came on 
we wished we had our canoe with us, or even the old scow 
to sail on the lakes near the school. Once we seriously con- 
sidered building a sailboat, but the project was given up, 
as we had few facilities for such work. But Bill wasn't 
easily baffled, and I wasn't surprised to have him come tear- 
ing into the room one day, yelling, " I've got it ! I've got 
it! " In his hands were two bicycle wheels, which I recog- 
nized as belonging to a couple of bicycles we had discarded 
the year before. 

" What are you going to do with them? " I inquired. 

" I'm going to make a tricycle sailboat." 

"What?" 

" A tricycle sailboat, a land boat, or anything you've a 
mind to call It. I mean a boat just like our Ice boat only on 
bicycle wheels instead of skates. We can sail all over south 
Jersey on the thing. Come on down and help me build it." 

215 



2i6 The Scientific Jmericau Boy. 



The Frame of the Yacht. 

X 



I followed him 



l^- SOOyL. /O' 0" '-' -'"■ -y 111 I 

U— -<3'o--..->i v^ to the shed at the 



Fig. 215. The Backbone and Crosspiece. 



back of the school 
and found that he 
had already procured a couple of scantlings for the frame 
of the boat. The sticks were 2 inches thick and 4 inches 
wide. The backbone was cut to a length of 10 feet, and a 
5-foot link was sawed off for the crosspiece. The two 
pieces were securely nailed together about 3 feet from the 
forward end of the backbone. The crosspiece was set on 
edge, but a notch was cut in it about i inch deep to receive 
the backbone. We might have braced the frame with 
wooden braces, as in the ice boat, but we thought that this 
time we would vary the design by using wire bracing instead, 
thus making the frame much lighter. I asked Bill how he 
proposed to tighten the wire. Turnbuckles were the thing, 
but I knew that they were rather expensive. 

" Just you leave that to me," said Bill. " I've a scheme 
that I think will work out all right." 

A Simple Tumbuckle. 

At the hardware store 
of the town we bought 

Fig. 216. An Eye Bolt. 

a pound of No. 16 iron 



The Land Yacht. 



217 



wire, eight large screw eyes and six eye bolts, with nuts and 
washers. Both the screw eyes and eye bolts had welded eyes 
and the shanks of the eye bolts were 6 inches long. A pair of 
screw eyes were now threaded into the backbone at each side 
about 18 inches from the end, and at each end of the cross- 
pieces an eye bolt was fastened. I began to see Bill's plan. 
He was going to draw the wire taut by tightening up the nuts 
on the eye bolts. To get the best effect the hole for the eye 
bolt had to be drilled in on a slant, so that the bolt would 
pull directly in the line of 
the wire. To get just 
the right angle we ran a 
cord from the screw eye 
on one side to the point 
where the bolt was to be 
inserted, and traced its 
direction on the cross- 
piece. The hole for the 

eye bolt was now drilled parallel with the mark we had traced. 
The same was done at the other end of the crosspiece. A 
pair of screw eyes were now screwed into the backbone at 
the fore end and a pair of eye bolts were set at a correspond- 
ing angle in the ends of the crosspiece. The crosspiece was 
notched at each side so that the nuts and washers on the eye 
bolts would have a square seating. Then we stretched 
on the wire guy lines, drawing them as tight as possible, 
with the eye bolts held in place by a turn or two of the nuts, 
after which we screwed up the nuts as far as we could, thus 




Fig. 217. 
Stretching the Guy Lines. 



2l8 



The Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 218. 
The Frame with Wire Braces. 



drawing up the wire until it was very taut. This done the 
second nut was threaded onto each bolt against the first so 
as to lock it in place and prevent it from jarring loose. 

Stepping the Mast. 

Our next 
task was t o 
step the mast. 
We found in 
the shed an old flagstaff 15 
feet long and 3 inches in 
diameter. The lower end of this, 
for about a foot, we whittled down to a diameter of 2 inches, 
and drove it into a hole in the backbone 12 inches from the 
forward end. The mast was stayed by a wire stretched 
from the head to an eye bolt at the fore end of the backbone. 
The end of the mast which projected below the backbone 
was stayed with wire running forward to an eye bolt and aft 
to a screw eye on the backbone, and also with a pair of wires 
running to screw eyes threaded Into the crossplece near the 
ends. We couldn't very well use eye bolts on these wires 
except at the fore end, but we stretched the wires as tight 
as possible before the screw eyes were screwed all the way in, 
and then, as we turned the screw eyes, the wire was wound up 
on them and drawn fairly taut. Fig. 219 shows a side view 
of the frame, and wires marked i and 2 are the same as 
illustrated in Fig. 218, which is a top or plan view of the 
frame. 



^ 



The Laud Yacht. 219 



Mounting the Frame on Bicycle Wheels. 




(^ We were now ready to mount the frame on 

^ the bicycle wheels. We used only the front 

wheels of the 
bicycles with 
the forks In 

Fig. 219. Bracing the Mast. whIch they were 

journaled. The 
shanks at the top of the forks were firmly driven Into holes 
In the crossplece near the ends. For the steering wheel BUI 
took the front fork and wheel of his new bicycle, letting the 
shank Into a hole at the stern end of the backbone. 

The Tiller. 

For a tiller we used a piece of an old rake handle. A 
small hole was first drilled Into the handle and the end of the 
stick was then split through the hole, permitting the pro- 
jecting shank of the fork to be driven tightly Into the hole. 
The split wood was now tightly closed onto the shank by 
means of a bolt (see Fig. 220). In the rubbish heap we 
found an old chair. The legs were sawed off and the seat 
was then firmly nailed to the backbone. The back of the 
chair was cut down so that It just cleared the tiller. 



220 



The Scientific American Boy. 



A " Leg-of-Mutton " SaiL 

^5- — 



■^ 



Fig. 220. The TiUer. 





Fig. 221. The Seat. 



Everything was now 
completed but the sail. 
This was a triangular or 
" leg-of-mutton " affair, 
of the dimensions 
given in Fig. 
222. It was 

made of light canvas, 30 inches 
wide, of which we bought 14 yards. 
Out of this we took one strip 18 
feet long, one 13 feet, one 8 feet, 
and one 3 feet long. We had no 
sewing machine, and therefore had 
to sew the strips together 
by hand. The selvedge edges of the strips 
were lapped over each other about an inch 
and then they were sewed together sailor 
fashion, that Is, each edge was 
hemmed down, as shown in Fig. 
223. The strips were sewed to- 
gether so that at the foot each 
projected at least 21 inches 
[below the next shorter 
one. This done, the sail 
/^F9y /o' ^" -y^^as cut to the dimensions 

Fig. 222. Leg-of-Mutton SaU. given, allowing I Yi. 




The Land Yacht. 



221 



Fig. 223. 
The Sailor's Stitch. 



inches all around for the hem. The hem was tun ed over 
a light rope, forming a strong corded edge. At the clew, 
tack and head loops were formed In the rope which pro- 
jected from the canvas, and at Intervals 
along the foot the canvas was cut 
away, exposing the rope so that the sail 
could be laced to the boom, as Illustrated. 
The boom was a pole 1 1 feet long at- 
tached to the mast by means of a screw 
hook threaded into the end of the boom 
and hooked Into a screw eye on the 

mast, after which the screw hook was. 
hammered so it would close over the 
screw eye to keep it from slipping off. 
The sail was raised by a halyard pass- 
ing over a block at the top of the 

mast. The sheet was fastened 
^£/if6r ^ ^^^^ ^^^ ^^j ^£ ^^^ boom, 

passed through a block on 

the backbone, back of the 

tiller, and through 

another block on 

> he boom, and 

was led to a 

cleat within 

'^' ^' easy reach of 

Fig. 224. Laying Out the Sail. j.J^g ^^h^Jj. gg^j.^ 




cur/ffffj. 



222 



The Scieutific American Boy. 



A Sail through the Country. 

Our land yacht proved to be quite a successful craft in the 
flat country around the school. Of course, we could not 
sail everywhere; a country road is too narrow for any tack- 
ing when it comes to sailing against the wind. We hadn't 




Fig. 225. A Sail on the Land Yacht. 

thought of that when we made our trial trip. A strong east 
wind was blowing and so we ventured forth on a road that 
led due west from our school. Off we sped before the wind 
for two miles, until we came to a sharp turn in the road. 
Then we began to think of turning homeward. But this 
was a very different proposition. The wind was dead against 
us and to try to tack from side to side of the road was useless, 



The Land Yacht. 223 

because we would hardly get under way on one tack before 
we had to swing around on the other tack, losing all our 
momentum. It ended up by our lowering sail and ignomini- 
ously trundling the yacht back to school. After that we 
carefully selected our course, and never sailed away from 
home before the wind unless we knew of a roundabout way 
that would lead us back to port on a couple of reaches (long 
tacks) . 



CHAPTER XX. 



EASTER VACATION. 

Just before Easter that year Bill's Aunt Dorothy invited 
him to spend Eastertide with her and bring along his room- 
mate. I accepted the invitation with alacrity. Bill had once 
spent a whole summer at his aunt's home, and when we 
arrived there he had many old haunts to visit. We spent the 
first day rambling through the woods, In the hills and back 
of the house. 

Bill's Cave. 

He Introduced me to a cave which he believed was known 
to only two other boys, both of whom had since moved to 
New York city. The mouth of the cave was almost closed 
by a large boulder that had lodged in front of it. We had 
to climb to the top of this rock, and then letting ourselves 
down with a rope we slid down the sloping rear face of the 
boulder into a crevice In the rocks. Then after squirming 
under a ledge we emerged into a large chamber, which ap- 
peared to be as dark as night after our sudden entrance from 

the outer light. 

224 



Easter Vacation. 



225 










Fig 226. Sliding Down into the Cave. 



Bill lighted a candle which projected from a chink in the 
wall. By its light I saw that there was a pool in the center 
of the cave fed from a spring at one point. From the pool 
the water trickled off into a tiny stream to the mouth of the 
cave, where it was lost in a crack in the rocks. The water 
was ice cold and clear as crystal. Around the pool were 
several chairs and a table made by Bill and his two friends. 
That was evidently where Bill had gotten his idea of a sub- 
terranean club. 



226 



The Scientific American Boy. 



The Barrel Stave Hammock. 

Hanging between a couple of projecting rocks was a ham- 
mock made of barrel staves. The hammock was a very 
simple affair, made by drilling a i-inch hole in each end of 




Fig. 227. The Barrel Stave Hammock. 

each barrel stave. The staves were then connected by two 
ropes on each side, woven alternately in and out through 
these holes, that Is, one rope would be passed down through 

one stave, up through the next, 
down through the third, etc., 
and through the same holes 
another rope would be 
threaded in and out but 
in the opposite direction. 
The end staves of the 




Fig. 228. 
Tying the Staves Together. 



hammock were provided with double holes, as shown in Fig. 
228, so as to make them lie flat, then the ropes were threaded 
through them. 



Easter Vacation. 



22jr 



The Barrel Armchair. 




Tig. 229. 
The Armchair Frame. 



Aside from the hammock and 
the rustic furniture there was a 
fine armchair, made from a 
barrel that had been sawed off, as 
in Fig. 229, to form the arms and 
back. The barrel was raised 
from the ground by setting it on 
a couple of boards arranged in 
the form of a V. Then a caster 
was fastened to the point of the 
V and another at each end, mak- 
ing a three-legged chair of it. 

The chair was upholstered with ticking stuffed with straw. 

First a piece of ticking large enough for the back was laid 

on the ground and covered over with an even layer of straw. 

Over the straw a second piece of tick- 
ing was laid, making what Bill 

called a " straw sandwich." 

This was nailed to the chair 

back along the edge and at the 

bottom, drawing the cloth as 

taut as possible. To make 

a better finish for the chair, 

the ticking was covered with 

dark red denim. Then strips Casters on the Chair. 




228 



The Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 231. 

Tacking on the Straw 
Sandwiches. 



of braid were laid on the chair back, 

crossing each other hke a lattice. At 

the crossing points of the braid brass- 
headed tacks were nailed right 

through the sandwich into the 

wood, producing the padded 

upholstered effect. Next a long, 

thin sandwich was made to run 

along the edge of the back, and 

another one to run around the 

chair just below the seat, also a 

couple of small sandwiches to 

cover the legs and the brackets 

leading to them. These were all covered with denim before 

being tacked to the chair and then they were bound with 

tape at intervals to produce 
the padded effect. The 
rest of the woodwork was 
covered with denim, and a 
neat ruffle made by Aunt 
Dorothy hung about the 
.bottom of the chair. A 
thick, round sandwich was 
now made to cover the seat 
board. This was also given 
^" a padded effect by binding 
it with tape. The seat 

Fig. 232. The Barrel Armchair. ^^O^rd waS not nailed tO the 




Easter Facation. 



229 



chair, but rested on four cleats nailed to the barrel on the 
inside. When the seat was lifted out it uncovered a shallow 
chest in which various things could be stored. 




Fig. 233. The Summer Toboggan. 



The Summer Toboggan. 

Bill informed 
me that he and 
his two chums 
used to spend 
hot summer after- 
noons in this cool 
place whittling 
out various orna- 
ments and mak- 
ing furniture for the cave. In one corner were a number 
of home-made amusement devices, one of which struck me 
as rather odd. It consisted of a pair of large barrel staves, 
hollow side up and connected with two short boards, as in 
Fig. 233. Bill said it was a summer toboggan, to be used on 
grass instead of snow. I had never heard of such an affair, 
and, of course, had to have a demonstration. Bill went 
to the top of the hill and from there coasted down the 
grassy slope in fine style. 



Tailless Kites. 



" There's a better place over on the other side of the 
hill," he said, and led the way to his favorite coasting spot. 



230 



The Scientific American Boy. 



fr 






#r-- 



m6K^:$^^'^'!;^'^ 




Fig. 234. 
Coasting in Summer. 



But here our attention was diverted from coasting by the 
curious sight of a full-grown man flying a kite. We found 
out afterward that he was a Professor Keeler, who had made 
a great scientific study of kites. Professor Keeler was very* 
affable, and we soon got acquainted with him. His kite 
was way up in the air, almost out of sight, and was pulling 
like everything. Neither Bill nor I could hold It long. 
But the most remarkable part of it all to me was the fact that 
the kite had no tail. I had heard of tailless kites made like 
a box, but this one appeared to be very much like the kites T 
had made in my younger days, and I well knew the Impor- 
tance of a long tail to keep such a kite steady. We asked 
the professor about It, and were Informed that this kite was 
of the Malay type, which is so designed that the cloth bellies 
out Into pockets on each side of the central stick or back- 



East 67- Vacatiou. 



231 



bone, and these pockets balance the kite while the backbone 
acts as a rudder. 

Finding that we were interested in the subject he gave 
us full instructions for making kites from 5 to 8 feet long, 
and these I jotted down for future use. In a 5-foot kite 
he said the stick should be }i Inch thick and Yz inch wide, in 
a 6-foot kite 7-16 Inch thick and 9-16 Inch wide. In a 7-foot 
kite y^ inch thick and ^ inch wide, and In an 8-foot kite 
^ Inch thick and i inch wide. On the following summer we 
built a 5-footer and also an 8-footer. 

A Five-foot Malay Kite. 

For the 5-foot kite we used two sticks of hickory ^ of an 
Inch wide, Yz an inch thick, and each 5 feet long. According 
to directions, one stick was laid across the other at a point two- 
elevenths of its length from the top. Two-elevenths of 5 feet 
is a little less than 1 1 inches, and so we fastened on the 
cross stick 1 1 Inches from the upper end of the backbone. 
The sticks were not nailed together, because this would have 
weakened the frame just at the point where it was under 
the greatest strain. Instead we followed the professor's 
directions and tied cleats to each stick, as shown in Fig. 235, 
so as to form sockets. Then the sticks were laid across 
each other, each stick fitting into the socket of the other, just 
like a mortised joint. A coat of shellac on the bottom of 
each cleat glued it temporarily to the stick, after which it 
was very tightly bound with fine cord. The stick and cleats 



232 



The Scientific Amcriccin Boy. 




Fig. 235. Tying on the Cleats. 



were now thoroughly shellaced. The end of each stick was 
tapered off to receive a brass ferrule of the kind used on 
chisel handles. They can be bought at any hardware store. 
^ ^ „^^ At the end of the backbone 

liQilllliiillll — rzAi — ilililliililDz^ -we fastened hooks made of 

brass, bent to the form 
shown in Fig. 236. The 
cross sticks were also provided with hooks, but these were 
double, as shown in Fig. 237, so that a hook lay on both" 
the front and the rear side of the frame. 

The frame was covered with a kind of cloth called " perca- 
line." The cloth was hemmed along 
each edge over heavy picture wire, and at 
each corner the wire was twisted around 
a small solid ring of brass. The rings 
were now slipped over the hooks on the 
frame and then the cross stick was bowed 
back by fastening a wire to the rear hooks 
and drawing it taut. Professor 
Keeler told us to tighten this 

bowstring until the distance from the 
wire to the cross stick at the center was 
equal to one-tenth of the length of the 
stick. As our sticks were each 5 feet long 
we tightened the wire until the cross 
stick bowed out 6 inches, as in Fig. 239. 
The belly band of the kite was fastened at one end to the 
lower end of the backbone and at the upper end to a wire 



Fig. 236. 

Hook on the Vertical 

Stick. 





Fig. 237. 
Double Hook. 



Fig. 238. 
Connection at Corner 



Easier Vacation. 233 

hook at the juncture of the two sticks. The hook was 
fastened to the cross stick by flattening the ends and running 
them under the cord used for binding on the cleats (see Fig. 
240). A buttonhole was made in the cloth covering to let 




Fig. 239. Bending the Cross Stick. 

this hook project through. The belly band was just long 
enough, so that it could be stretched over to one end of the 
cross stick, as in Fig. 241, and at this point, that is, 30 inches 
from the upper end of the belly band, a brass ring was made 
fast, to which the main kite string was tied. The kite pos- 
sessed the advantage that it could be quickly taken apart 
and folded into a small space. 




An Eight-foot Malay Kite. 

Our 8-foot kite was made 
in the same way only the sticks 
were ^ inch thick, i inch wide 
and 8 feet long. The cross 
stick was fastened 173^ inches 
(two-elevenths of 8 feet) from the top of the backbone and 
It was bowed back 9^^ inches (one-tenth of 8 feet). The 
wire in the hem of the covering was a double thickness of the 
heaviest picture wire obtainable. 



Fig. 240. 
Belly Band Hook. 



234 ^^^^ Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 241. The 5-foot Malay Kite. 




^<^^, 



Fig. 242. Malay Kite with Elastic Belly Band. 



^f^^ 



Easter Vacation. 235 

The Elastic Belly Band. 

An important change was made in the belly band of the 
kite. The lower strand was made elastic by tying it fast 
to a number of heavy rubber bands, as in Fig. 242. When 
flying the kite, if a sudden, strong puff of wind struck it, the 
elastic belly band would give, tilting up the lower end of the 
kite so that the wind passed under; but as soon as the gust 
had passed the rubber bands would draw the lower end of 
the kite back against the wind. The elastic belly band had 
the effect of making the kite rise almost vertically. Some- 
times it would even sail square overhead. The 8-foot kite 
was a very powerful one. To hold it we had to use a very 
strong cord, the kind used by upholsterers for tying down 
the springs in a chair or a sofa. 

Putting the Kites to Work. 

Bill tested the strength of the kite once by hooking a 
spring scale to the kite string. The scale was made to 
register weights up to 25 pounds. But our kite yanked the 
pointer immediately past the 25-pound mark as far as it 
would go. We judged from this that the kite would lift 
at least 40 pounds. Such a pull as this it seemed a pity to 
waste, but how to utilize the power was a problem until one 
day, when the kite was soaring up on a south wind, Dutchy 
suggested that we tie it to one of the canoes and go sailing up- 



236 



The Scientific American Boy. 



stream. We tried the trick at once, but it didn't work very 
well, because the canoe was too light. The kite would drop 
unless there was a heavy pull on the string. We had better 
success with the scow, however, which provided a sufficient 
drag on the kite, and with the two kites to pull us we sailed 
a long ways up-stream, drifting down with the current when 
we had gone as far as we cared to. 



The Diamond Box Kite. 

Professor Keeler also gave us instructions for making a 
diamond-shaped box kite, and though we never built one, it 
may not be amiss to publish his instructions here. I quote 
from the chronicles of the S. S. I. E. E. of W. C. I. : 

*' Materials : Four sticks, 34 irich thick by ^ inch wide by 
44 inches long, for the corner sticks. Two sticks, ^ inch 
thick by ^ inch wide by 15 inches long, for the short 
spreaders. Two sticks, ^ inch square by about 




Fig. 243. The Scow Towed by Kites. 



Easter Vacation. 



237 



38 inches long, for the long spreaders. Two strips of cloth 
8 1 inches long, hemmed at each edge to a width of 13 inches. 
Whittle out twelve cleats to the form 
shown in Fig. 244. At the ends of 
the 15-inch spreaders nail cleats on 
each side with long wire brads, so as 
to form forks, as shown in Fig. 
245, in which two of the corner sticks are held. The 
short spreaders are fastened to the corner sticks, 7 inches 
from the ends, with brads 




Fig. 244. 
Cleat for Spreader. 






Fig. 245. 

Comer Stick and 
Spreader. 



driven through the cleats, 
hiaking the frame (as in Fig. 
246). To prevent the frame 
from skewing off sidewlse It 
should be braced with wire running di- 
agonally across from one corner stick to 
the other. Ordinary soft stovepipe wire 
will do. Care must be taken to have the 
spreaders meet the corner sticks squarely 
or at right angles. Now take one of the cloth strips and sew 
its ends together to form a band. The end should be lapped 
about an Inch and fastened with the sailor stitch (see Fig. 
223). The same 
should be done to 
the other cross strip, 
and then each band 
should be marked 

off with pencil lines Fig. 246. The Narrow Frame. 




238 



The Scientific American Boy. 




^ 



J ?A/ 6 yS^ffs^/pe/f 



Fig. 248. 

Forked End of Long 

Spreader. 



Fig. 247. Tacking on the Cloth. 

at four points, all equidistant from 
each other. The two bands may 
now be tacked to the two ends of 
the frame with opposite pencil lines 
over the edges of the corner sticks, 

as in Fig. 247. The 
two remaining corner 
sticks are then 
nailed to the 
bands at the two 
other pencil lines. 
These corner 
sticks will now be braced 
apart by the long spread- 
ers, which are notched to 
the right length to stretch 

Fig. 249. The Diamond Box Kite. the cloth taut. A cleat Is 

nailed over each notch, as shown In Fig. 248, forming 
forks to hold the corner pieces. The long spreaders are 
now forced down until they meet the short spreaders, to 




Easter Vacation. 239 

which they are tied with waxed string. The long spreaders 
may be nailed to the corner sticks by driving brads right 
through the cloth into the cleats and the sticks. The belly 
band may be fastened to any one of the corner sticks at the 
spreaders, and from the points where It Is tied It should 
measure about 45 Inches In length. The point where the 
main string should be attached to the belly band may be best 
determined by experiment." 



CHAPTER XXL 



THE WATER WHEEL. 



Summer found us again on Willow Clump Island with 
heads full of new ideas. Bill had come across an old copy 
of Ewbanks' " Hydraulics " in the school library. It was a 
book describing machines of the ancients — principally de- 
vices for raising water. Rather dry reading, I thought, even 
though it was a wet subject; but Bill seemed to find it ab- 
sorbingly interesting. I came in late one afternoon, after a 
glorious game of baseball, only to find Bill poring over the 
yellowed leaves of the " Hydraulics " as fascinated as most 
fellows would be over a detective story. It exasperated me 
to note that he thought more of this old book than he did of 
our baseball team. 

" Bill," I exclaimed, "what's got into you? I can't for 
the life of me see what is so entertaining in that prehistoric 
book." 

" Oh, go way. Don't bother me," was the surly reply. 

But I wouldn't be put off that way. Quickly I snatched the 
book from his grasp and threw it out the window. 

" Now, sir," I cried, " maybe you will kindly explain to 
me why you persist in studying that old volume, to the neg- 
lect of our baseball team." 

240 




Gettina: Dinner. 




The Photo after which Uur Log Calun was Modeled 



The Water Wheel. 241 

" Don't get so excited, old chap," he replied. " That book 
is all right. I'm studying up some new schemes for next 
year's expedition to Willow Clump Island. Why, there are 
lots of things in that old book that we can make." And he 
proceeded to unfold his plans, sketching out some curious 
designs of water wheels and pumps. 

By the time school closed for the summer Bill had thor- 
oughly digested that volume, and was ready to reconstruct 
many of the ancient machines. 

The Water Wheel. 

Our first work on reaching the island was to erect a water 
wheel, or " noria," as it was called in the book, in front of 
the camp. It had been a great nuisance to keep our filter 
barrel full. Every few days we would have to form a 
bucket brigade, passing pails of water up the line until the 
barrel was filled. Now Bill proposed to do away with all 
this bother and let the river do the work for us. 

Surveying for the W^ater W^heel. 

We first determined the height of the upper filter barrel 
above the level of the river. This was done with our sur- 
veying instrument, which was set level with the top of the 
barrel. We sighted with the instrument to a long pole that 
was held upright at the edge of the water. The pole had 
been marked off into feet with white chalk marks, and on 
sighting through the sight holes we found that the hairs 



242 



The Scientific American Boy. 






I r . 






■'-■*% %r;" ^ V 



ih' 






.4^i*'.>/ ' 





















<) 



The IFater JVheel. 



243 



came in line with the eleventh chalk mark. The top of the 
filter was, therefore, 1 1 feet above the level of the river. 
Bill figured that it would be necessary to construct a wheel 
about 15 feet in diameter in order to raise the water to the 
proper height. 



Fig. 251. 

Frame for 

Large 

Tower. 




Towers for the Water Wheel. 

First we built the towers to 
support the wheel. One tower 
was 16 feet high and the other 
only 10 feet. The large tower 
was made something like a 
very tall and narrow saw- 
horse. Two stout poles 17 
feet long were flattened at 
their upper ends and 
nailed together, with the 
ends projecting about a 
'foot, as shown in Fig. 
'251. At the bottom 
these poles were 

spaced 8 feet apart by a cross bar, and about 93/2 feet from 
the bottom a pair of boards were nailed to opposite sides of 
the pole to serve as supports for the axle of the water wheel. 
Another pair of 17-foot poles was now similarly fastened 
together and then the two pairs were spaced about 12 feet 
apart and connected at the top and bottom with boards. 



244 



The Scientific American Boy. 




At the top two smooth 
boards were used and 
these were nailed to 
the inner sides of the 
projecting ends, 
which were tapered 
off. In this man- 
ner a V-shaped 
trough was 
formed The 
Ij boardswere 

Fig. 252. The Large Tower. ^^^^^ j^^H^^j ^q. 

gether at their meeting edges so as to prevent them from 

warping apart. A diagonal brace at each corner made the 

wedge-shaped tower very substantial. A number of cleats 

nailed to one of the poles 

provided a ladder by which 

we could mount to the top 

of the tower. The shorter 

tower was a three-legged 

affair, made of three 

1 2-foot poles. At first two 

of these were flattened and nailed 

together at their upper ends, and 

they were braced at the top and 

bottom. The third leg was then 

nailed in place and braced by cross 

bars connecting it with the other 

two poles. 




The Water Wheel. 



245 



The Wheel. 



We were now ready to 
make the wheel. From 
Lumberville four 5^2 -Inch 
boards, each 3 inches wide 
and 1 5 feet long, were pro- 
cured; also a bar of Iron ^ 
of an Inch in diameter and 
2 feet long. At the center 
of one of the boards a block 
of wood 4 inches long and 
4 inches in diameter was 
nailed on for a hub. A 
^-inch 



Fig. 254. 





Fig. 255. 
The Hub. 



hole was 

now drilled through The Small Tower. 

this hub and the 

board. Holes were also drilled Into the 
other boards at their centers. Then they 
were all strung onto the bar and 
spaced like spokes at equal angles 
^ "/VPJ/ apart. Bill had figured it out 
some way that the ends of the 
boards should be just about 5 feet 103^ Inches 
apart. When the boards were all arranged we 
nailed them together at the center, and con- 
nected the ends with narrow tie boards, as 
Indicated in Fig. 256. 



246 



The Scientific American Boy. 




The Buckets. 

Eight large 

tomato cans were 

now procured and 

fastened to the 

spokes at the ends 

on the inner side, that 

is, the side the hub was 

nailed to. We couldn't 

very well nail on the cans, 

so we punched two holes in 

the side of each can and then secured them to the spokes by 

passing bolts through these holes and the boards. 



Fig. 256. The Water Wheel. 



The Paddles. 

Then we cut sixteen paddles of the form 
shown in Fig, 257. Eight of these were 12 
inches long, and the rest measured 18 inches. 
A slot 3 inches deep was cut in each paddle 
of just the right width to slip over the tie 
boards. The shorter paddles were fastened 
on just back of the spokes, and the rest were 
secured half-way between each spoke. The 
paddles were braced by stretching a wire 
from one to another all the way around the 
wheel. 



<--5''--.-> 




Fig. 257. 
A Paddle. 



The Water Wheel. 



247 



The Receiving Trough. 



Our next task was to nail 

the receiving trough In 

place on the higher 

tower. We set up 

the towers on land 

and mounted the 

wheel between them 

with the axle resting 

in the crotch of the 

short tower and in a 

deep notch cut in the 

cross boards of the 

larger one. The cans on the 

wheel faced the larger tower, 

but the hub at the center and 

a block nailed to the larger 

tower spaced the wheel far 

enough out so that the cans did not strike the tower as they 

revolved. We carefully measured the distance between the 

spokes and the larger tower, and 
then built a square trough of a 
size to just fit into this space. 
This trough was nailed across 
the end of the V-shaped trough 
P; 259. on top of the tower, but a notch 

The Receiving Trough. waS CUt in the sldc $0 that the 




Fig. 258. 
How the Paddles 

and Cans 
Were Attached. 




248 The Scientific American Boy. 

water would pour from the square or receiving trouj^h into 
this V-shaped one. The square trough was about ^ feet 
long and its sides were 12 inches high; but at the ends we 
had to cut them down to a height of but 6 inches, so as to 
permit the cans to pass without hitting them. 



Setting Up the Towers. 

Our filter was located nearly 20 feet from the end of the 
river, and in order to get a good current of water to revolve 
our wheel we had to place it about 15 feet from shore. 
This necessitated building a trough line 35 feet long. Ten 
feet of this line were already provided in the top of the tall 
tower. This tower was now set up in place with the legs 
firmly wedged into holes excavated in the bottom of the 
river. The legs on the shore side were sunk a little deeper, 
so as to tilt the trough slightly shoreward. The outer end 
of the trough was about 1 2 feet above the level of the water. 
We needed but one more tower to support the remainder of 
the trough line. This tower was built like the first one, but 
was much shorter, as it was erected on land and the level of 
the trough at the top had to be 5 or 6 inches lower so as to 
make the water flow. We connected the towers by another 
V-shaped trough section. This we nailed to the under side 
of the first trough and to the inside of the second trough. 
The latter was then in the same way connected by a trough 
section with the upper filter barrel. We now rigged up our 
shorter tower about a foot from the taller one, wedging in 



The Water Wheel. 249 

the legs so that the top came level with the slotted boards 
of t|ie other tower. 

Mounting the W^ater W^heel. 

Then came the task of mounting our wheel in place. We 
were working in a pretty strong current and found it no 
easy matter. In the first place, the wheel was floated down to 
the towers, but there it got jammed and we couldn't lift it 
up. One of the paddles was broken and a bucket wrenched 
off before we could disentangle the wheel from the towers, 
and then the wheel was carried quite a distance down-stream 
before we could drag it in to shore. 

Our next attempt was more successful. This time we 
anchored the wheel so that it just cleared the towers, then 
fastening a couple of long guy ropes to it, we raised the wheel 
on edge, while a boy stood on each side holding the ropes to 
keep the wheel steady. The anchor rope was now slowly 
paid out and the wheel was rolled in between the towers. 
This done, the wheel was lifted up and the axle rod was 
pushed in, with the ends of the rod resting in slots of the 
boards on the tall tower and in the crotch on the shorter 
one. To prevent the axle rod from working endwise out 
of its bearings, we nailed pieces of wood across the crotch 
and the slots against the ends of the rod. Then we cast off 
the anchor rope and our wheel started work, the cans dip- 
ping up the water as they were carried around by the wheel 
and pouring It out of the top into the receiving trough, from 
which the water flowed down into the filter barrel. 



250 



The Scientific American Boy, 



Cooling the Filter Barrel. 

The trough line was very leaky and a great deal of water 
splashed out of the buckets. But for all that, within a few 
moments our barrel was full and overflowing. We hadn't 
figured on its filling so rapidly, but we soon found a way of 



t:r>\ 




Fig. 260. The Water Wheel in Action. 



Utilizing the surplus water. It was led to a half-barrel in 
which we washed our dishes, and from there it flowed 
through a ditch back to the river. The water for the wash 
barrel was taken from the top of the upper filter barrel. 
But we let the lower filter barrel flow over so that it would 
be kept wet on the outside. Our filter was fortunately 
placed at a point where a good breeze struck it, and we 



The IF liter IF heel. 251 

shoveled away the earth that had been piled around it so 
that the wind playing on the wet barrel evaporated the 
moisture, making the water inside very cool. 

The Canvas Bucket. 

This same trick was used for cooling our drinking water 
whenever we went off on an expedition away from camp. 
We had a heavy canvas bucket, the kind used on ships. We 
would fill this bucket with water and then hang it up in the 
wind. The water seeping out of the pores of the bucket 
would be evaporated by the wind, and this would, in a few 
moments, make the water inside delightfully cool. Such 
buckets may be bought for $1.50 to $2.00 apiece, but ours 
was a home-made affair, and made somewhat differently from 
the store kind. The canvas used was the heaviest we could 
find. A piece 9 Inches in diameter was cut out for the 
bottom. A ring 7 inches In diameter, made of heavy brass 
wire, was laid on the canvas, and the cloth was turned over 
It and sewed down the Inside of the ring. For the sides of 
the bucket we cut a piece 14 inches wide and 23 inches long. 
The upper edge was strengthened by a piece of light rope 
held in place by hemming the cloth over it. The lower edge 

was now sewed to the bottom, 

just inside the wire ring and /^^^^^^^^^^'^^^^^^^.^^^^ 
then the ends of the piece were /;' M ,, -'' \ \ 

joined, completing the sides \.^_, ..•• * .^yCx 

of the bucket. The ball of the ^^^^^^^^^^^^:^^ 

bucket was formed of a pig. 26L Bottom of Bucket. 



252 



The Scietitific American Boy. 



Fig. 262. 

The Canvas 

Bucket. 



piece of rope fastened to the roped upper edge of the 
bucket. 

But to return to the current wheel; the day after it was 
completed, when I went over to Lumbervllle for the mail, I 
was met by old Jim Halliday, who wanted to know what sort 
of a rig we had out on the river. I told him, and after a dint 
of much persuasion, induced him to take a ride back in the 
scow with me. He had never visited our camp and hadn't 

realized how handy we were 
with the tools, because, with 
the exception of the current 
wheel, all our work had been 
done on the opposite side of 
the island. We made him a 
guest of honor, showing him 
over the whole place. The 
bridges struck him as remark- 
ably clever, but what pleased 
him most was our current 
wheel. 

" I swan," he said. " Ef that ain't jest the thing I have 
been awantin' for the past twenty year. What'll ye sell 
me the hull plant fer, boys? " 

Mr. Halliday's Water Wheel. 

We thought he was fooling at first, but when he had 
assured us that he was in earnest. Bill told him that we 
needed our own plant, but we could build him a similar 
and even better current wheel for any amount he thought 





The Water JVheel. 253 

it was worth to him. The figure settled on was six dollars 
(a dollar apiece) for our work, Mr. Halliday paying for 
the material. It was not a 
large sum, but it seemed 
a lot to us, and con- 
sidering the scarcity of 
money in that region 
it was pretty generous 
pay. We built Mr. 

Halliday's current ^.^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^^^^^,^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^ 
wheel just like our 

own, except that the paddles were much broader, and instead 
of using cans for the buckets Mr. Halliday supplied us with 
small dinner pails. The method of fastening on the pails 
is shown in Fig. 263. A stick was nailed across the end of 
each spoke and the bail of the pail was held by a screw eye 
threaded into this stick. The pails would hang straight, 
holding all the water without spilling a drop until the receiv- 
ing trough was reached. This trough was fastened high 
enough to strike the bottom of the pails as they went by, 
tipping them over and emptying them of their contents 
From the trough the water ran directly into a large cider 
barrel and from here was carried through a pipe to Mr. 
Halliday's barn. A stopcock was here provided so that 
he could turn the water on or off, as he desired. The use of 
pails was a great improvement on tin can buckets. Fully 
three times as much water was poured into the receiving 
trough, because not a drop was spilled out on the way up. 



CHAPTER XXII. 



THE LOG CABIN. 



Immediately after fitting out Jim Halliday with his 
water wheel we set to work on our log cabin. As a model 
we had a photograph of a log hut which Uncle Ed had sent 
us. As the cabin was designed particularly for use in 
winter time, we decided that it should be located where it 
would be sheltered from the northern winds and would be 
exposed to the sun. The ideal spot seemed to be on the 
southern shore of Kite Island, which was backed by a thick 
grove of trees but gave an unobstructed view in front for 
a distance of about four miles down-stream. 

Foundation of Log Cabin. 

First we staked out the plan of the house. It was to be 
12 feet long by lo feet wide, so we leveled off a space of this 
area, and at the corners, where the greatest weight of the 
building would come, large rocks were embedded in the 
ground. 



254 



The Log Cabin. 255 

A Logging Expedition. 

The logs for the house were cut from a tract of wooded 
land about five miles up the river, belonging to Mr. Schrei- 
ner. To be sure we could have cut the timber from our 
own island, but when Reddy had said something to his father 
about our building a log cabin, Mr. Schrelner had warned 
us not to cut down any of the trees without the owner's per- 
mission. All we could learn about the owner was that his 
name was Smith, and that he lived somewhere in New York 
city. It seemed unlikely that he would ever have any- 
thing to say about our cutting down a few trees, but rather 
than run any risk Mr. Schreiner advised us to make use of 
his woods for any timber we might need. Accordingly we 
started out early one morning on a logging expedition. We 
had no apparatus for handling any logs more than 6 or 8 
Inches in diameter, and Bill reckoned it out that we would 
have to have about fifty logs of this size for the sides of the 
building alone. This did not mean that fifty trees had 
to be chopped down, because we could usually cut two logs 
from a single tree. As the logs would have to overlap about 
a foot at each corner, we had to cut the longer ones to a 
length of 14 feet and the others to a length of 12 feet. Aside 
from these we had to have several 16-foot logs for the roof. 
Only the straightest logs were chosen, and while Bill and 
Reddy wielded the axes the rest of us hacked off the small 
branches with hatchets and hauled the sticks down the river. 
Here we tied them together to make a raft. 



256 The Scientific American Boy. 

The Log Raft. 

This was done by running a pair of ropes alternately over 
and under the logs at each end (see Fig. 264). About 
fifteen were thus fastened together, and then as an extra pre- 
caution a log was laid across each end of the raft and tied 
fast. As soon as we had cut enough timber for our first 
raft, we all ceased 
work, to take a ride 
down the river on 
the logs. Two of us, /\ 
armed with poles, 
were to do the steer- 
ing. There was one 

spot in the river of which pj^ 264. Tying the Logs Together. 

we were rather appre- 
hensive. That was a bit of shallow, swift water three miles 
from camp. A line of rocks jutted up from the river, form- 
ing a natural dam which was broken only at the eastern end. 
The water swirled madly through this opening, and veering 
off a huge rock which lay directly in front of the gap turned 
sharply westward. As we neared this dam the river became 
deeper and deeper, until finally we could no longer reach 
bottom with the poles, and could not properly steer the boat. 
For some time we drifted helplessly round and round in the 
still water above the dam. Then suddenly the current 
caught us and we swept like a shot for the opening. The 




The Log Cabin. 257 

gap was quite wide, and had we only thought to provide 
ourselves with oars we could have steered the raft clear of 
the rocks below, but we were entirely at the mercy of the 
current, and with a terrific crash we were hurled head on 
against the boulder. 

Just what happened then I can not say. When I under- 
took to record the Incident In the chronicles of the S. S. I. 
E. E. of W. C. L, I found there were five entirely different 
versions of the affair besides my own. I knew that im- 
mediately after the shock I found myself struggling in the 
water just below the rock over which I must have been slung 
by the force of the Impact. Dutchy declared up and down 
that he had sailed fifty feet in the air astride of a log. Bill 
had been almost stunned by a blow on the head and was 
clinging desperately to a jagged projection of the rock. The 
ropes that had held the raft together had parted, scattering 
the logs In all directions, and I could see the rest of the crew 
hanging on to them for dear life. 

Shouting to Bill to let go his hold on the rock I swam over 
and caught him as he drifted down, then I helped him ashore. 
Leaving Bill to recuperate I rushed down the bank, shouting 
to the others to paddle the logs over toward shore. Then 
I plunged In, and pulling myself up on the nearest log, pad- 
dled shoreward as we had done on the planks when shooting 
the rapids. In this way one by one we corralled the logs, 
and after tying them together again resumed our voyage 
down the river. We now had no swift water to fear and were 
able to guide the raft successfully down to Lake Placid. 



258 



The Scientific American Boy. 



But here we moored it, not venturing to take it past the mill- 
race until we had gotten the oars from the scow and nailed 
on oar locks at each side and the rear, so that we could prop- 
erly row and steer the raft safely to Kite Island. 



The Sail-Rigged Raft. 

When we went up the river again we carried the oars 
with us, also the sail and mast belonging to our ice boat, as 
there was a good breeze blowing down-stream. Our second 
trip was more successful. The mast was stepped in a small 
but solid box nailed to the logs. In the top of this box a 
hole was cut for the mast to fit 
into and then the mast was 
braced with guy lines. We 
came down the river in fine 
style, steering strai 
for the opening in 
dam, and just as we 
were about to shoot 
through Reddy 
and I plied the 
oars for all we 
were worth on 
the port (left) 
side so as to 
swing the raft 
around past the 
boulder. However, ^'^- 265. A Sail-rigged Raft. 




The Log Cabin. 259 

we didn't escape entirely without accident, for the raft rode 
up on a submerged ledge, dipping the starboard side clear 
under water and nearly tipping us over. But In a moment 
the raft had righted Itself and we had smooth sailing for the 
rest of the way. 

Building the Log Cabin. 

Our third expedition completed the number of logs we 
required for the log cabin. Two large 12-foot logs were 
chosen for the foundation logs at the front md rear of the 
building. The logs were flattened along the bottom so that 
they would have a firmer bearing on the ground, and particu- 
larly on the corners, where they rested on foundation stones. 
Each log was now notched about a foot from the ends. The 
notches were 8 Inches long and about 2 Inches deep. Care 
was taken to place those on one log squarely opposite the 
notches on the other. A pair of 14-foot logs were now laid 
across the foundation logs and rolled along them until an- 
other half-turn would have dropped them Into the notches 
(shown in Fig. 266). Then notches were cut in the 14-foot 
logs to correspond, so that when the final half-turn was 
given one notch would fit over 
the other, making a mor- 
tise joint (Fig. 
When the side 
logs were in 

position Fig. 266. Foundation Logs Notched. 




26o 



The Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 267. Foundation Logs Fitted Together 



notches were cut In their upper surface to receive a pair of 
1 2-foot logs which were rolled onto them, notched and 
dropped into place. Then another pair of side logs were 
laid on, and so the work pro- 
gressed. The notches 
each log were cut to 
a depth equal 
to one-quarter 
the diameter of 
the log ; that 

is, if the log was 8 Inches In diameter the notch was made 2 
inches deep, and if 6 inches in diameter It was cut to a depth 
of i>2 inches. When the logs were laid In place no space 
intervened between them, as will be clearly understood by 
reference to Fig. 268. 

We found, after a few logs had been set in place, that our 
cabin was growing faster at one end than at the other. The 
trouble was that our logs were not of uniform diameter 
throughout, and we had been laying the butt ends, which 

were larger, all at 
one end of the 
building. So we 
had to take down 
the logs and relay 
them with the butt 
end of the front 
foundation log at 
one end and that of 




Fig. 268. A Corner of the Log Wall 



The Log Cabin. 



261 



the rear foundation log at the other. Then the cross logs 
were laid on with their butt ends on the small ends of the 
foundation logs. The next end logs were laid with their 
small ends on the butt ends of the cross logs, and so on, taking 
care never to lay the butt end of one log across the butt end 
of another. In this way the walls were built up evenly to a 
height of 3 feet. 

We had planned to make a large open fireplace in the 
cabin, and this necessitated cutting an opening in the rear 




Fig. 269. Piece Cut Out to Admit Saw. 

wall. But we did not want to cut the opening until the wall 
was built up to its full height lest it might buckle while the 
remainder of the logs were being placed in position. So 
we merely cut a piece out of the top log to make room for a 
saw when we were ready to cut the complete opening. As 
our fireplace was to be 5 feet in width, a 5-foot piece was cut 
out of the center of the log. Then the ends were supported 
by cleats nailed on each side, as shown in Fig. 269. This 
done the building was continued as before, but as the walls 
grew we found it more and more difficult to raise the logs to 



262 The Scientific American Boy. 

position. We could not lift them directly to the top of the 
wall, but had to roll them up on " skids "; that is, on a pair 
of 14-foot logs which were laid against the top of the wall. 
When the walls had reached a height of about 5 feet above 
the foundation logs, a length 4 feet 9 inches long was cut 
out of the top log to allow space for sawing out the front 
door and window, and also a 30-inch piece was cut out for the 
side window. Cleats temporarily held the sawed ends of 
the logs, while the walls were 
carried on up to a height 
little over 6 feet from 
the foundation logs. 



The Roof of the 

Log Cabin. Fig. 270. Skids. 

Then we started laying the roof. A 1 6-foot log was now 
notched in place at each side, with its forward end projecting 
about 3 feet over the front of the cabin to form a shelter in 
front of the building. A pair of 1 2-foot logs were then laid 
In position. The next pair of 16-foot logs were laid about 
20 inches in from the sides, and after a pair of the cross logs 
had been set in place a third pair of logs were laid about 
40 inches from the sides. Finally, a single 16-foot log was 
set in place at the center, to serve as the ridge beam of the 
roof. The roof logs were all carefully tested to see If they 
were sound before we laid them in place, because we did not 
want to run any risk of the roof falling in, particularly in the 




The Log Cabin. 



263 



winter time, when it would be heavily covered with snow. 
A chalk line was drawn from the ridge beam to the lower 
roof beam, and the cross logs were sawed off along this line, 
as indicated in Fig. 271. Several slabs were now procured 
and laid across the roof beams to serve as rafters. These 
rafters projected about 18 inches beyond the side walls of 




Fig. 271. How the Roof Logs were Laid. 

the cabin, so as to support the eaves. Over the rafters we 
laid a roofing of slabs, starting with the bottom and lapping 
them, as we had done on our tree house. 



The Door and Window Frames. 

We were now ready to cut out and frame the doors and 
window openings. The front window of the cabin was to be 



264 



The Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 272. The Finished Roof. 

close beside the door, so we merely widened the door opening 
at the top to include the window opening as well (see Figs. 
271 and 272). The door was made 25^ feet wide, and was 
cut down to the foundation logs. The window opening was 
cut to a depth of 24 inches. Before sawing out the opening 
we wedged pieces of wood between the logs along the line 
we were to follow with the saw, so as to keep them in 
place. After the opening had been made a couple of stout 
boards were nailed to the sawed ends of the logs at each 
side, to hold them securely in place and make a suitable fram- 
ing for the door. The cleats were then removed. The 
foundation log and the one at the top of the opening were 
flattened, to serve as the sill and lintel of the door. Between 
the door and window a short post was wedged in place. 



The Log Cabin. 265 

This post was flattened on opposite sides, so that the door 
jamb could be nailed against it on one side and the window 
frame on the other. The side window was next cut out 
and framed. After it had been framed it measured 2 feet 
square. 

The Fireplace. 

Then came the task of building our fireplace. First we 
sawed out the opening, cutting right through the rear founda- 
tion log. Then we gathered from the river a large number 
of the flattest stones we could find. With these we planned 
to build the three outer walls of our chimney. But the ques- 
tion of getting mortar to bind the stones together bothered 
us for a while. 

" If only we could find a bed of clay. Don't any of you 
know of one around here? " queried Bill. 

But none of us remembered seeing any clay bed in the 
vicinity. 

" If we were in south Jersey now," I said, " we could 
use some of that red mud they have down there. It sticks 
like the mischief to shoes and pant legs. I bet it would hold 
those stones together." 

" Red mud? Why there's plenty of It over the hill, back 
of Lumberville," said Reddy. " All the roads over there are 
red shale roads, and I saw some red banks along the river 
when we went after the logs." 

That was just what we wanted. The banks Reddy referred 
to turned out to be genuine red shale, and soon we had 



266 The Scientific American Boy. 

ferried several scow loads of the stuff down to Kite Island. 
When the shale was wet it made quite a sticky mortar. The 
foundations of the chimney were laid in a trench about 2 feet 
deep, and the side walls of the chimney were carried inside 
of the cabin and covered the ends of the logs at the chimney 
opening. The side walls extended outward a distance of 
3 feet, where they were joined by the rear wall of the 
chimney. 

The Proper "Way to Build a Stone Wall. 

In making our chimney we could not rely on the red shale 
to hold the stones as firmly as good lime mortar would, so 
we had to be careful that each stone, as it was laid, had a 
firm bearing. The stones were embedded in a thick layer 
of mud, and if they showed any tendency to teeter we 
propped them up by wedging small stones under them until 
they lay solid. Another thing that we were very careful 
about was to " break joints "; that is, to keep the joints in 
each layer of the stones from coinciding with those in the 
next layer, above or below. To make sure of this we made 
it a point to lay a stone over each joint in the top of the wall 
and then to fill in the space between the stones with smaller 
stones. In this way the wall was made very substantial. 

When the masonry had been carried up to the top of the 
chimney opening, a heavy timber about 12 inches wide was 
laid across the walls close against the wall of the building. 
This was to support the fourth wall of the chimney, and so 



The Log Cabin. 



267 




Fig. 273. How to Build a Wall. 



we flattened its upper surface. To prevent it from catching 
fire it was covered with a thick plastering of mud, and then 
to keep the mud from cracking and flaking off we procured 
a piece of tin and 

tacked it over the <S?p/5 jP/Arrj /3^/^ J.V/vrj 

log. The tin also 
extended over the 
top log of the 
opening. Then 
we went on with 

the building of the chimney walls, carrying them up about a 
foot above the ridge of the roof. Our chimney was com- 
pleted by paving the bottom with stones, well packed in mud 
and nicely smoothed off to make the hearth. The hearth 
extended about 1 8 Inches into the cabin, and was framed with 
logs, as shown in Fig. 275. 

The Floor of the Cabin. 



A number of logs were now laid on the ground to serve as 
floor beams. Slabs were used for the floor. We had some 
trouble in making the floor perfectly even, because the floor 
beams were rather irregular, and a great deal of time was 
spent in smoothing the logs off to a common level. If we had 
the work to do over again we would have bought two or 
three planks and laid them on edge to support the flooring. 



268 



Fig. 274. 

Building the 
Chimney 



The Scientific American Boy. 

Log to support fourth wall. 




Fig. 275. Section through the Fireplace. 



The Log Cabin. 



269 



The Door Hinges and Latch. 



p,Wri.£ 



A door was now constructed by battening together a num- 
ber of slabs. In place of a hinge a hole was drilled into the 
sill and another into the lintel directly in line with It. Two 
sticks of wood were then whittled to fit snugly, but without 
jamming, Into these holes. These sticks were then nailed to 
the inner face of the door, with their whittled ends project- 
ing into the holes, form- 
ing pintles on which the 
door could turn. A nar- 
row strip of wood was 
hailed to the outer jamb 
for the door to close 
against. The latch con- 
sisted of a stick of wood, 
fastened to the door at 
one end with a nail. It 
hooked onto a catch 

whittled out of hard Fig. 276. The Door Hinges, 

wood to the form illustrated in Fig. 278, and nailed to the 
jamb. Then to keep the latch from dropping too far when 
the door was open, and to guide It when slammed against the 
catch, we whittled out a guard piece to the form illustrated 
in Fig. 277, and nailed this to the door, with the latch pro- 
jecting through the slot of the guard. A string was now 
fastened to the latch and passed through a hole in the door. 










The Scientific American Boy. 



A block was tied to the end of the latch string to 
prevent It from slipping back through the hole; 
but at night, when we did not want to be molested 
by any Intruders, we un- 
tied the block and drew 
in the latch string. | 



A 



Fig. 277. 

The Latch 

Guard. 



The Window Sash. 



Fig. 278. 
Door Catch. 



For our windows we made wooden sashes which fitted 
nicely into the window openings. A small hole was drilled 
through the sash at each side into the frame, and nails in- 
serted in these holes held the sash in place, and served also 
as hinge pins for the sash to turn on. The sash could be 

taken out at any time by re- 
moving these nails. As we 
could not afford to use glass 
for our windows, we covered 
the sashes first with cloth, and 
later, when It occurred to us 
that in winter time It would be 
difficult to keep the cold air 
out, we used oiled paper. 

Bunks. 




Fig. 279. 
The Latch. 



Our next work was directed 
toward providing sleeping 
accommodations in the log 



The Log Cabin. 



271 



cabin. A large log was laid on the floor the full length of the 

cabin, as far out as possible without interfering with the 

opening of the front 

door. Stakes were laid 

across this log, with their 

opposite ends wedged in 

between the logs of the 

wall. A nail or two in 

each slab held it in place. 

This formed a sort of 

shelf 1 2 feet long, which 

was divided at the center 

to form two bunks, each wide enough for two persons. But 

as there were six of us in the society, we had to provide two 

more berths. A stout post was set Into a hole in the ground, 




^^^ 



Fig. 280. Hinged Window Sash. 




Fig-. 281. Bunks. 



272 The Scientific American Boy. 

and nailed firmly at the bottom to the lower berth log and 
at the top to one of the roof beams. This post supported a 
second berth log, which extended the full length of the build- 
ing at a height of about 3 feet from the floor, and was 
wedged at the ends between the logs of the house. Cleats 
were nailed to the walls under this berth log to make it 
perfectly secure. Then slabs were nailed across it to form 
the two bunks. 

Stopping up the Chinks. 

The log cabin was completed by stopping up all the chinks 
between the logs of the walls. Strips of wood and bits of 
bark plastered with mud were driven into all the cracks and 
crevices until everything was made perfectly tight. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 



THE WINDMILL. 



When our log cabin was completed we immediately 
transferred our camp from the tent to the hut. But at the 
very outset we were confronted with the problem of getting 
drinking water. We hadn't thought of that before. It was 
easy enough to move the filter barrels, but when it came to 
moving the water wheel we could find no suitable place for it 
anywhere near the log cabin. The water of Lake Placid was 
too quiet, while the mill-race and the rapids on the other side 
of Kite Island ran so swiftly that we were afraid the water 
wheel would be swept away with its course. The matter 
was carefully considered at a special meeting of the society. 
It occurred to Bill that we might build a windmill in place 
of the water wheel, and use it to pump water from a well 
which could be dug near the hut. 

" We wouldn't have to use a filter, then," he said. 

"Why not? "I asked. 

" Why, because the sand of the island will strain out 
all the dirt in the water. You see, the water in the well will 
have to soak in from the river, and by the time it gets through 
all the gravel and sand between the river and the well it 
ought to be filtered pretty clear." 

273 



274 



The Scientific American Boy. 



Digging the Well. 



That sounded logical, and so we adopted the plan at once. 
We chose a spot quite near the hut for our well. When we 
had dug down about 6 feet we struck water, but continued 
excavating until the water lay 3 feet deep in the well. 
While making the excavation we shored up the sides with 
planks, to prevent the loose soil from falling in on us and 
smothering us, as it so nearly did when we were digging our 
first cave. By " shoring," I mean we lined the walls with 
planks, which were driven into the ground with large wooden 
mallets. The planks were braced apart with sticks at fre- 
quent intervals. As the well hole grew deeper we had to 
rig up a bucket to haul the dirt out. Our bucket was a soap 
box attached to a rope, which 
passed through a pulley at the 
top of the well. The pulley 
was supported by a tripod 
made by firmly lashing 
together the 
upper ends of 
three stout 
poles and 
spreading their 
lower ends far 
enough apart 
to straddle the 



Fig. 282. 

Digging the 

Well. 




The JVindmill. 



^7S 



..r6'., 



mouth of the well, as shown in Fig. 282. After the well 

had been carried down to a sufficient depth, we began laying 

the stone wall, which was to form the permanent lining. We 

knew that the wooden walls would not do, because they would 

soon decay. Our stone wall, which 

was built up of flat stones like the 

chimney of the log house, was not 

very strong, I fear, and had not the 

soil around it been pretty firm It 

would probably have caved in. 

However, if it served no other 

purpose, it formed a fairly good 

finish for the well. 

The Windmill Tower. 

The mouth of the well was 
carefully covered with planks 
while we constructed the wind- 
mill above it. For the tower of 
the windmill we chose four long 
sticks. They must have meas- 
ured about 1 6 feet in length, and 
were from 4 to 6 inches in diameter. With them we made 
two frames of the form given in Fig. 283, using slabs to 
brace them apart. These frames were now set in position, 
with their lower ends firmly planted in holes in the ground, 
and the tower was completed by nailing on a number of 




■6' 0' 



Fig. 2S3. 
Frame for the Tower. 



276 



The Scientific American Boy. 



diagonal braces. A couple of boards were nailed across the 
upper ends at opposite sides, and holes were drilled through 
them to provide bearings for the wind wheel shaft. 

The Crank Shaft. 

The shaft was a piece of heavy iron rod which we pro- 
cured from the blacksmith at Lumberville. Under Bill's 
direction the blacksmith hammered a U-shaped bend at the 
center of the shaft, so as to form a crank, and then he flat- 
tened the rod near the ends (see Fig. 284) . When the shaft 
was set in its place these flat spots lay just outside of the 

bearing boards, and 



>- — S'O 



"J^^ysfi9?">; 



21' 



\LJ/ 



then, to keep the 
shaft from sliding 
back and forth in Its 
bearings, we fast- 
ened on two clamps 
over these flattened parts. The clamps were made of pairs of 
hardwood blocks bolted together In the manner Indicated 
in Fig. 285. 



Fig. 284. The Crank Shaft. 



The Wind Wheel. 



Our next task was to con- 
struct the wind wheel. First 
we procured three boards, each 
3 Inches wide and 35^ feet 
long. A 3^ -Inch hole was 




Fig. 285. A Clamp. 



The Windmill. 



277 




Wedge for Wind Wheel. 



drilled in the center of each Fig. 286. 

board, and then, with these 

holes coinciding, the boards 

were nailed together, with 

their ends projecting, like 

spokes, equally distant from 

each other. Six wedges were 

now made of the size indicated 

in Fig. 286. These were made of a 2 x 4-inch scantling, 

sawed diagonally in two and then planed down to the given 

dimensions. The wedges were now nailed firmly to the spokes, 

as shown in Fig. 286. For the blades we used six thin 

boards, each about 4 feet 
long. Each blade meas- 
ured 10 inches in width 
at the outer end, and 
tapered down to a width 
of 3 Inches at the Inner 
end, as illustrated in Fig. 
288. The blades were 
now securely nailed to 
the wedges, and their 
outer ends were braced 
together by means of 

wires stretched from the forward edge of each blade to the 

rear edge of the next one ahead. The wheel was then fitted 

onto the shaft and nailed to one of the clamps. In this way 

it was practically keyed to the shaft. 




Fig, 287. Spokes of Wind Wheel. 



278 



The Scientific American Boy, 



We did not make any vane for our windmill. It did not 
need any. The wind nearly always blew either up or down 
the river, more often up the river, for the prevailing summer 
winds in that part of the country are southerly. But, 

aside from that, 

east and west 

___^ winds could not 

Fig. 288. Wind Wheel Blade. yg^y well rcach US 

on account of the hills on both sides of the river. The wheel 
was set facing the north, because the strongest winds came 
from that direction, and as an extra brace against these winds 
we stretched wires from the projecting end of the shaft to the 
center of each blade. 




A Simple Brake. 



A brisk northerly 
wind was blowing 
when we set the 
wheel in place, and 
it began to revolve 
at once, before we 
could nail it to the 
clamp. To stop it 
we nailed a stick of 
wood to the tower, 
so that its end pro- 
jected in the path of 



Fig. 289. 




The Wind Wheel. 



The JVindmill. 



279 



the blades and kept the wheel from turning around. This 
brake was swung up to the dotted position illustrated when 
we were ready to have the wheel revolve, 
but it could be thrown down at any time to 
stop it. 

The Pump, 

Our pump was made 
of a galvanized leader 
pipe; that is, a pipe used 
to carry off rain water 
from the roof of the 
house. The pipe was 
only about 8 feet long, 
and so we had to piece it 
out with a long wooden 
box pipe. A block closed 
the lower end of this 
box, and the leader pipe 
fitted snugly into a hole 
in the block ( Fig. 291). A spout was set into the upper end 
of the box pipe to carry the water to the cask, which was to 
serve as our water reservoir. 




Fig. 290. 

Side View of the Wind Wheel, 

showing Brake. 



28o 



The Scientific American Boy. 



The Pump Valves. 



We plugged the bottom of the leader pipe with a block 

of wood, in the center of which a large hole was drilled. 

The hole was covered with a piece of leather nailed at one 

side, so that it could lift up to let water 

into the pipe. The piston was made of 







Fig 291. 
The Box Pipe. 




^£^r//£/f Vfivs 



Fig 292. 
The Lower Valve. 




P/sr?-v 






Fig. 293. 
The Piston Valve. 



a disk of wood of slightly smaller diameter than the Inside 
of the pipe, and over it was fastened a piece of leather just 
large enough to fit snugly against the walls of the pipe. 
This piston was fastened to a wooden rod long enough to 
reach from well within the pipe to the wind wheel shaft. 
A strip of brass was bent over the crank, sr U-shaped 




The Windmill. 



2«I 



•5. 

Fig. 294. 

Connection of Rod 

and Crank, 



bend in the shaft, and its ends were 
fastened to the rod. 

Action of the Pump. 

It was rather a crude pump, but it 
did all the work we required of it. As 
the wheel went around the crank shaft 
would move the piston up and down. 
Whenever the piston went down, the air 
in the pipe would press up the edges of 
the leather disk and squeeze past (see Fig. 295). Then 
when the piston came up again, the leather disk, being backed 
by the wooden disk beneath it, was kept flat, so that no air 
could force its way back into the pipe. This made a partial 
vacuum in the pipe, and the water from the well rushed up 
through the valve at the bottom to fill it (see Fig. 296). 
When next the piston went down the bottom valve closed and 
more air forced its way past the piston. Then on the next 
upward stroke more water flowed into the pipe, until, after 
a number of strokes, all the air was pumped out and the 
water which took its place began to force its way up past 
the piston and eventually to flow out of the spout into the 
cask. 

Our old windmill was sold to a farmer near Lumberville 
when we broke camp that fall. We carted it over and set it 
up for him. A number of years later I saw it still faithfully 



282 



The Scientific American Boy. 



at work pumping water for his cattle. The original pump 
had been worn out and a new one substituted, but otherwise 
the old windmill remained just as we had first rigged it up. 




Fig. 295. Fig. 296. 

Action of the Pump, 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



THE GRAVITY RAILROAD. 

" About all we lack now," said Dutchy, when the wind- 
mill had been completed, " is a railroad." 

" Then suppose we build one," was Bill's unexpected re- 
joinder. 

We all thought he was joking, but he wasn't. 

" I don't mean a steam railroad," he said, " but a gravity 
railroad." 

"A what?" 

" A gravity railroad. Oh, you know what that is — a 
roller toboggan — the kind they have down at Coney Island." 
And he went on to explain how we could rig up a simple 
roller toboggan on our island. 

His plan was to build an inclined trestle on the high ground 

just below the lagoon, and then run wooden tracks along the 

shore down to the pontoon bridge, and across the mill-race 

to Kite Island. We started first to dig a road down to the 

bridge, because the bank was quite high at this point. The 

task was rather greater than we anticipated, but we kept 

steadily at it until we had cut a fairly good road through the 

bank, though the grade was rather steep. 

283 



284 



The Scientific American Boy. 



Before proceeding with the trestle and track we thought 
the best plan would be to build our car, and then we could 
use it as a gauge to determine how far apart the rails should 
be set. 



The Car. 



First we got a 2 x 4-inch scantling, and cut from it two 
lengths, each 4 feet 6 inches long. These were laid on edge 
just 30 inches apart, and then a number of boards were 
were nailed across from one 
scantling to the 
other and sawed 
off flush with 
their edges. The 
floor thus formed 
was now turned 
over so that the 
scantlings lay up- 
permost and the sides of the car were then nailed on with 
their edges overlapping the ends of the floor boards. The 
sides, which were about 18 inches high, were each made of 
two boards firmly battened together. Great care was taken to 
securely nail both the flooring and the sides to the scantlings, 
because these scantlings were to carry the wheels of the car. 
The car body was completed by nailing on the end pieces 
which overlapped both the flooring and the side walls. 




Fig. 297. Putting the Car Body Together. 



The Gravity Railroad. 285 



The Flanged Wheels. 

Next we sawed out the wheels ^/^Mf//G£ /s/sy 

of our car. From a board of /fmi^^l^^ • 

hardwood Y^ of an inch thick ^'^Sj^^^^ V\ *' 

four disks, 1 2 Inches In diameter, lli^^^^^m b ^ 

were sawed out. Then from a ^W^L^^^j^ ' 

board i Inch thick four o-Inch ^***t-^^ .Y 

Fig. 298. The Car Wheel. 

disks were sawed out. We cut 

these disks In the same way as we had made the disks for our 
surveying rod (see page 78), by making cuts across corners 
and finally smoothing off the angles with a draw-knife. A 
half-Inch hole was now drilled In the center of each disk. 
Then on each large disk a smaller one was placed, with the 
center holes of the two coinciding and the grain of one lying 
across the grain of the other. In this position they were 
firmly nailed together, making a wheel like those used on a 
railway car, with the small disc forming the tread of the 
wheel and the large disk serving as a flange. 

The Car Axles. 

For the car axles we bought four ^-inch bolts, 6 inches 

long, with two washers and two nuts for each bolt. In 

each side of the car, about 8 inches from the ends, we nailed 

face blocks; that is, blocks of wood for the wheels to bear 



286 



The Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 299. Car Body with Axles in Place. 



against. These face blocks were 
only Yz Inch thick. Then in 
these blocks holes 
were drilled which 
were carried clear 
through the scant- 
ling. The holes 
were just large 
enough for the bolts 
to fit s n u g 1 y in 
them. The bolts were inserted from the inside, so that their 
threaded ends projected out at each side of the car. A patch 
of wood was nailed to the scantling over each bolt head to 
prevent the bolt from slipping back into the car. Then the 

wheels were mounted on these 
bolts, which served as axles. 

Mounting the W^heels. 



First a washer was 
placed on the axle, 
then the wheel was ap- 
plied, with the larger 
or flange disk against 
the face block, after 
which another washer 
was slipped on. A nut 










/y/jrs//s/F\ 



Fig. 300. Section Showing How to Fasten 
on the Wheel. 



The Gravity Railroad. 



287 



was screwed against this washer just tightly enough to keep 
the wheel snugly in place, and yet let it turn freely on its 
axle. Then to keep this nut from shaking loose a second 
nut was screwed on against it. While one fellow held the 
first nut from turning, another screwed the second nut against 
it as tightly as he could. The second nut is technically 
known as a *' jam nut," or " lock nut." The car was com- 
pleted by laying a couple of boards across from one scantling 
to the other to serve as seats. 

The Railway Track. 



The trestle was now begun. First we erected a level plat- 
form, which was to be the starting point of the railway. 
This was made very substantial by planting the corner posts 
firmly in the ground and then bracing them together with 
diagonal braces. A couple of planks leaning against the 
platform at one side provided a convenient 
means for mounting to the top. From 
the platform the trestle ran down 
at an easy incline to the 
ground. It was made 
of 2X4-inch 
scantlings s u p - 
ported at Inter- 
vals on posts 
driven into the 

The Inclined Trestle. grOUnd. The Op- 




288 



The Scientific American Boy. 



posite posts were firmly braced with boards fastened diagon- 
ally across them. The scantlings were to serve as rails, and 
so we fastened them at the proper distance apart with ties 
nailed to the under side. But to be sure that the rails were 
not too far apart or too close together, the car was rolled 

over the track and the rails were 
set to keep the tread disks of 
the wheels on them 
and the flange disks 
just clear of their 
inner edges. The 
ends of the rails 
were cut off at an angle, making a slanting joint, as shown in 
Figs. 301 and 302. They were fastened firmly together by 
nailing a piece of board on the bottom and also on the outer 
side. 




Fig. 302. Joints of the Track. 



The Carpenter's Miter Box. 



To make sure that the ends were all cut to the same angle, 
we made a carpenter's " miter box." Two sideboards were 
nailed to a baseboard, making a trough large enough for 
the scantling to be ^ 

set in It. Then we ^^^^ ^^..^^^^ A^ 

sawed through the 

sides of the trough 

at an angle of 45 

degrees. When we 

wanted to cut the end of the scantling at an angle it was 




Fig. 303. 

Carpenter's Miter 

Box. 



The Gravity Railroad. 



289 



placed in the trough, and with the saw set In the saw cuts, 
as a guide, we were sure that they would all be cut at the same 
angle. 

Laying the Track. 

From the bottom of 
the inclined trestleway 
we continued the track 
down the slope to the 
river; but for the 
sake of economy, 
instead of using 
2 X 4-inch scant- 
lings for the rails, we 
bought a number of 
2-inch planks at Lum- 
berville, and had them 
sawed up into strips 2 inches wide. These 2-inch square 
rails were fastened together with slabs nailed on at frequent 
intervals. To maintain the proper gauge the car was rolled 
over each pair of rails, which were nailed first at the ends 
and center. To anchor the track we drove short posts into 
the ground so that their upper ends lay flush with the surface. 
A post was provided under each joint and one under the 
center of each rail, and then the slab ties were nailed securely 
to these posts. In imitation of a full-sized railway, we 
made it a point to " break joints " on our track; that is, to 
make the end of one rail come in line with the center of the 




Fig. 304. 
How the Track was Anchored. 



290 The Scientific American Boy. 

opposite rail, as shown in Fig. 302. Our track was con- 
tinued across the pontoon bridge and ran around the west 
shore of Kite Island. The track was straight as far as the 
shore of Kite Island, whence, by an easy curve, it was carried 
around to the log cabin. 

The First Railway Accident. 

Dutchy was the first one to try the railway. He sneaked 
back to the platform while the rest of us were putting a few 
last touches on the track. The first we knew the car came 
tearing down the track at full speed, with Dutchy yelling at 
the top of his voice for us to get out of his way. Bill was 
on the bridge when the car came along and he had no time 
to run for shore, but with great presence of mind he jumped 
into the water and clung to one of the barrels. But the 
joke of It all was that Dutchy himself got a wetting too. 
The track at the middle of the bridge was not quite true tc 
gauge. It was this very spot that Bill was fixing up when 
Dutchy came along. The end of a rail was bent in far 
enough to catch the flange of one of the car wheels, and in a 
moment Dutchy, car and all, was slung head over heels 
into the mill-race. Fortunately no serious harm was done. 
Dutchy landed a little ways down-stream, and Reddy, by 
quick work, managed to rescue the car just as it was floating 
off under the suspension bridge. The car was undamaged 
except that the flange of a wheel was split of?. 

Of course, Bill was as mad as a hornet at Dutchy, and ex- 



'■iaMlly*^ 




The Gravity Railroad. 291 

pressed his feelings in no mild terms. But his anger was 
somewhat tempered by the fact that Dutchy received as bad 
a punishment as he had Inflicted. 

Testing the Track. 

We had to cut a new flange disk for the broken wheel, 
and to prevent the flanges from splitting off again we nailed 
a batten across the Inner face of each wheel extending down 
to the very edge of the flange disk. This batten was fast- 
ened on across the grain. When everything was completed 
the car was started down the track empty to see if it would 
keep the rails. It went beautifully as far as the bridge, but 
was too light to run much beyond. The next time we loaded 
it up with stones and had the pleasure of watching it sail 
down hill, across the bridge and vanish out of sight around 
the shore of Kite Island. That was demonstration enough. 
We knew It would carry us safely and it did. The next 
time we tried it four of us piled into the small car, and in a 
moment we were off on a most thrilling ride, which ended 
right in front of the log cabin, where the car came to a 
sudden stop after riding off the end of the rails and plowing 
through the sand for a short space. 



CHAPTER XXV. 



THE CANTILEVER BRIDGE. 

There is one more piece of work done by our society 
which yet remains to be described, and that is the cantilever 
bridge. This we all voted to be the greatest of our achieve- 
ments on the island. To be sure, it was Uncle Ed's design, 
but I think we justly deserve credit for the masterful way in 
which it was erected. In our search for types of bridges 
before building the king post bridge, we came across a simple 
cantilever bridge that didn't look very difficult to construct. 
To be sure, none of us knew a thing about stresses and 
strains, and ingenious though we were. Bill realized that the 
task of designing a cantilever bridge was far beyond him. 
Nevertheless, we were sure we could build one if only we 
had a good set of plans. A letter was therefore mailed to 
Uncle Ed, asking him for the required details. The answer 
came promptly from Western Australia, asking us to send 
him the exact width of the water we wished to span, the 
depth of the water, the distance from the top of one bank 
to the top of the other, and the exact height of the banks 
above water level. We decided we would build the bridge 
across the mouth of the lagoon. The distance here between 

the two banks measured a little over 60 feet. The banks 

292 



The Cantilever Bridge. 293 

were very precipitous, and rose 133/^ feet above the level of 
the water. All these details, together with soundings of the 
bottom, all the way across, were sent to Uncle Ed, and on 
the day after our railway was completed quite a bulky pack- 
age was received in answer. It contained complete directions 
for building the bridge of wooden frames, which were so de- 
signed that they needed merely to be hooked together to 
form the bridge, though to make the structure perfectly safe 
Uncle Ed cautioned us to tie the frames together wherever 
they met. 

I am half afraid to tell my readers how to build this 
bridge, as it required the utmost care, and had to be built just 
so to avoid disaster. Bridge building is a serious business, 
and I would not advise any one to attempt building this, of 
all bridges, who does not propose to follow instructions Im- 
plicitly. Uncle Ed told us that if we built it properly, and 
with sound timbers, we would find the bridge strong enough 
to support a dozen boys, but he warned us not to crowd more 
than that number on it. 

Frames for the Cantilever Bridge. 

The frames with which the cantilever bridge was built 
were made of saplings from 3 to 4 inches in diameter. We 
procured them from Mr. Schreiner's lands up the river. In 
making the frames the sticks were fastened together with 
^-inch bolts 6 inches long. It was quite a strain on our 
pocketbooks to buy these bolts, but Uncle Ed had written 



294 



The Scientific American Boy. 



S" 6'- 




Fig. 305. A Frame (make four). 



The Cantilever Bridge. 



295 



that nails or spikes would 
be useless to stand the 
strains of so large a 
bridge, and that if we 
could not get any bolts 
we had better give up the 
idea of building a canti- 
lever bridge. To make 
sure that we made no 
mistakes, Uncle Ed had 
made a drawing of each 
different size of frame we 



<3Z 



II 



fa 



A 



C 



^' o 



3i 



«0 



Fig. 307. 



:3> 




^^ 



STD 



C Frame (make four). 



Fig. 306. B Frame (make four). 

would need, designating 
each with a different letter, 
and then these same letters 
were marked on a general 
view of the bridge, so that 
we would know exactly 
where the frames belonged. 
These drawings are repro- 
duced here in Figs. 305 to 
316 and 318. We had to 
make four frames each, of 
the A, B, C and E sizes, 
two each of the F, G and L 



296 



The Scientific American Boy. 



sizes and one each of the H, I, J and K sizes. Of the D 
frames two were made with the ends cut away on the outer 
half, as illustrated in Fig. 308, and two were cut away at 
the inner side, the reason for which will appear presently. 

When fastening the timbers to- 
gether we cut notches in each 
stick, as shown in Fig. 317. 



A' 



T ^ 



'*■■ v_ 






3-6' 



B 



.Y.-i 



• 



The depth of each notch was 
just one-quarter the diameter 
of the stick; that is, the notch 
was y^ of an inch deep in a 
3-inch stick and i inch deep in a 
4-inch stick. Care was taken not 
to exceed this depth, for fear of 
weakening the sticks. In the 
case of frame D, the sticks were 
not notched or mortised together. 
It will be noticed that the meas- 
urements are given to the inner 
edges of the sticks in some cases, 
and to the outer edges in others. 
The reason for this, as Uncle Ed 
explained it, was because the 
thickness of our sticks would 
vary considerably, and it was 
important that many of the meas- 
urements be exact, otherwise the 
Fig. 308. D Frame (make four), frames would not fit Into each 




Fishina: off the Cantilever Bridge. 







i^■.r^^^S'">^^^'^ 






'' "^^'■^ii-^J!ibi|^ 






^ 




is'"'"* 


i«' "' , 's • 


ill?*?/. 


ii>- ;r 


4:- ^ 'liiai 


i«#^^^-'-^^^. 



The Cantilever Bridge in Reddv's Back Yard. 



The Cantilever Bridge. 



297 








i:i3 



Fig. 309. E Frame vmake four) 



^^3 



Fig. 310. F Frame (make two). 



J^^..^'0.--._^^^ 





Fig. 311. G Frame (make two). Fig. 312. H Frame (make one). 



298 



The Scientific American Boy. 




Fig. 313. I Frame (make one). 



the ends of the braced 
frames, trying to crush 
them, but would pull on the 
unbraced frames, trying to 
tear them apart. In fact, 
the bridge would have been 
just as strong had we used 
heavy iron wire in place of 
the unbraced frames, and 
the only reason Uncle Ed 
did not recommend our 
doing so was because we 
had no simple way of 
stretching the wire taut. 



other as they should. An- 
other thing to which he 
called our attention was the 
fact that frames A, B, E, F, 
H, K and L were stiffened 
with cross braces, while the 
rest were not. The braced 
frames, he wrote, were 
those which would be under 
a compression strain, while 
the others would be under 
tension; that is, when any 
weight was placed on the 
bridge it would push against 

m--,--^^^' ^f^ 




u^ - ^' ^- ^ 

Fig. 314. J Frame (make one). 



The Cantilever Bridge. 



299 



Erecting the Towers. 

We built the complete set of frames before attempting to 
erect the bridge. Then we began by building the towers. 
Two A frames were set on end and spaced 4 feet apart at the 
top and 5 feet apart at the bottom, measuring not from the 
inner but from the outer edges of the frames. In this posi- 
tion they were connected by short spars, notched in place. 





Fig. 315. K Frame 
(make one). 



Fig. 316. L Frame 
(make two). 



The notches for these connecting spars will be seen in Fig. 
305 on the main or vertical timbers of frame A, just below 
the upper and middle cross sticks and above the lower cross 
sticks. The upper connecting spars were wedged tightly 
under the cross sticks, and served as an additional support 
for them. Diagonal braces were nailed from one frame to 
the other, as illustrated in Fig. 318. The towers were built 




300 The Scientific American Boy. 

on opposite banks, at the mouth of the lagoon, and when 
completed we lowered them carefully down the banks into 
the water. According to directions they were to be set just 
30 feet apart, measuring from the center of one tower to 
the center of the other. The water was quite shallow where 
the towers rested, but the bottom was 
pretty firm. Holes were dug in the 
bottom for the legs of the tower to set 
into, and then large stones were piled 
Fig. 317. around each leg to provide a firm 

Notching the Sticks 

Together. foundation for the towers. 

Setting Up the Frames. 

A B frame was now hauled out to one of the towers and 
lifted by its narrower end, with fall and tackle, until its lower 
tie piece rested on the projecting ends of the center cross- 
pieces of the tower. The upper end of the frame was held 
against the top of the tower, while a C frame was hooked 
over the upper ends of the tower legs; then frame B was 
allowed to swing outward until its smaller end locked with 
the outer end of frame C. It will be observed in Fig. 306 
that the upper crosspiece or tie piece of frame B was fastened 
to one side of the vertical sticks and the lower tie piece to 
the other side. This was done purposely, so that when the 
frame was set in position the bottom tie piece would be on 
the lower side of the frame and the top piece would lie on 
the upper side, as shown in Fig 318, or, better still, in 



The Cantilever Bridge. 



301 




302 The Scientific American Boy. 

Fig. 319. The rest of the frames were all arranged to be set 
In place with their tie pieces on the lower side, or facing the 
towers, as will be clearly understood by examining the illus- 
trations. As soon as the B and C frames were set up on one 
side of the tower, another pair of B and C frames was set 
up on the other side of the same tower. A cantilever bridge 
must always be built out on both sides of the tower at the 
same time, otherwise it will be overbalanced on one side and 
topple over. After the B and C frames were in place we 
took two D frames, with oppositely cut ends, and rested their 
tie sticks on the top of the tower, just under the ends of the 
C frames. The ends of the two D frames overlapped at the 
center of the tower, and, as one was cut away at the outer 
side and the other at the inner side, they fitted neatly to- 
gether and were fastened with bolts. The D frames were 
supported near their outer ends with E frames, which rested 
on the B and C frames. Fig. 319 shows an E frame set in 
position on the landward side of the tower, while two of the 
boys are climbing out on the opposite B and C frames pre- 
paratory to setting up the other E frame. A cross stick was 
now bolted to each D frame, just beyond the upper ends of 
the E sticks. This done, the frame F was hooked in between 
the ends of B and C, at the shoreward side of the tower, and 
its outer ends were supported by frame G, which was hooked 
over frame D and the upper ends of frame E. The frame L 
was then rested on the ends of frame F and G, and supported 
the shore end of frame D. A stick nailed across frame D on 



The Cantilever Bridge. 



303 



each side of the upper ends of frame L served to hold the 
latter in place. 

Binding and Anchoring the Structure. 

As the different frames were coupled together, we bound 
the overlapping ends with soft iron wire. The place where 
frames B, C, E and F came together was quite a vital point, 
and we took pains to make the wire binding at this place 
doubly strong. As soon as the L frame was in place we 
anchored the bridge to shore by running wires from the 
ends of the D frame and the ends of the G frame to stakes 
driven into the banks. The frames on the second tower were 
now similarly erected and anchored, after which we were 
ready to put in the center panels of the bridge. 




Fig. 319. 
Preparing to Put an 
E Frame in Place. 



304 The Scientific American Boy. 

The Center Panels of the Bridge. 

First, the frame H was wedged into place and thoroughly 
fastened by a liberal winding of wire. Next the frames / and 
/ were set in place, and in order to do this we had to remove 
the upper tie pieces of these frames. Then one frame was 
hooked in the other, and the two were carried out on the 
scow under the center of the bridge. Ropes were tied to the 
ends of the two frames, and they were lifted together, like a 
wide V, to the position shown in Fig. 318, after which the tie 
pieces were bolted on again, resting against the ends of the E 
frames. As an additional security, two sticks were bolted to 
the under side of the frame H, one at each side of the / and / 
frames. The bridge was then completed by wedging the 
frame K under the ends of the D frames, and also placing a 
stick across each tower under the joints of the D frames. 
We planned to run our gravity railway across this bridge, 
moving our platform and trestle to the opposite bank; so 
instead of flooring our bridge with slabs, we fastened ties 
across at intervals of 15 or 18 inches. These ties were sticks 
3 inches in diameter, which were secured to the D frames. 

A Serious Interruption. 

We were just preparing to lay the tracks across the bridge 
when we met with a serious interruption. Mr. Halliday had 
told us that a few days before our arrival that summer Mr. 
Smith, the owner of the island, and another man had paid 



The Cantilever Bridge. 



305 




3o6 The Scientific American Boy. 

a visit to the place. Jim Halliday himself had rowed them 
over, and learned from their conversation that Mr. Smith 
was trying to sell the island, and that the stranger, a Mr. 
Gill, was a prospective purchaser. All summer long we had 
been dreading the return of this customer, though, as time 
passed without his putting in an appearance, we almost for- 
got the incident. But now, at the end of August, just as we 
had about completed our cantilever bridge, who should 
arrive but this very man Gill and three other men with a 
large tent and camping outfit. It was a sorrowful crowd of 
boys that watched the wagon with their belongings ford the 
shallow water over to our island. We felt that the island 
was ours by right of discovery and occupation, but we were 
powerless to force our claims. And what if they did not 
insist on our leaving the Island? It would not be the same 
place with strangers around to meddle with our things. 

Dispossessed. 

But the new owner of the island was even more of a boor 
than we had anticipated. As soon as he landed he wanted 
to know what we were doing on his property, and peremp- 
torily ordered us off. Bill answered that we were camping 
there, and politely asked if we couldn't stay out the summer. 
But Gill would not listen to the idea. We must get off the 
island that very day or he would see to it that we did. 

I tell you it made us boil. We were just itching to give 
the pompous little man the sound thrashing he deserved, but 



The Cantilever Bridge. 307 

knew that we would stand a very small show against his 
three powerful companions. At any rate, we were determined 
not to leave at once. Instead, we repaired to Kite Island, 
taking our belongings with us. Then we cut away the sus- 
pension, spar and pontoon bridges, so that we would not be 
annoyed by any of the Gill crowd. We were resolved that 
they should not benefit by any of the things we had built. 

At the dead of night we paddled back to Willow Clump 
Island, crept past the slumbering Intruders and waded out 
to the old water wheel. After a good deal of exertion we 
managed to dislodge the smaller tower, letting the wheel 
drop into the river and float away. Then we made for the 
cantilever bridge. It didn't take us very long to cut away the 
wire bindings, unhook the frames and drop them into the 
lagoon. But the task was quite a perilous one, as the night 
was pitch black. Finally, nothing remained of the bridge 
but the two towers, which were left as monuments to mark 
the spot where our last piece of engineering on the island 
was done. 

Farewell to ^A7illow Clump Island. 

We spent several days on Kite Island, knowing that we 
were safe from intrusion, because the Gill crowd had but 
one boat, and that was on the Jersey side of the island. We 
felt confident that they would not take the trouble of wading 
around Point Lookout with their boats, as we had done; 
nevertheless, to prevent a surprise, we kept a sentry posted 
on the Lake Placid side of the island and gathered a pile of 



3o8 The Scientific American Boy. 

stones for ammunition. But our fun was spoiled, and we 
finally decided to break camp and bid farewell forever to 
Willow Clump Island and its vicinity. Our goods were 
ferried over to Jim Halliday's farm, where we were given 
shelter. The windmill, as I have already stated, was sold 
to a farmer at Lumberville, and we were kept busy for 
several days carting it over and setting it up in place. When 
everything had been done we stole back to Kite Island and 
set fire to the log cabin. The next day Mr. Schreiner took 
us home in a couple of his wagons. Thus ended our " in- 
vestigation, exploration and exploitation of Willow Clump 
Island." The work of two summers was practically all de- 
stroyed in a few days. 

Reddy's Cantilever Bridge. 

I believe I have given a careful account of everything that 
was recorded in the chronicles of the society. We were too 
discouraged to undertake anything new in the two weeks be- 
fore school opened. I presume I might mention here Reddy's 
cantilever bridge, which, however, had really nothing to 
do with the S. S. I. E. E. of W. C. I., because our society 
was formally disbanded the day before Bill and I returned 
to school. About a month after leaving home I received 
a letter from Reddy inclosing three interesting photographs, 
which are reproduced herewith. Reddy certainly had the 
bridge fever, because soon after we had left he started to. 
work, with the rest of the boys, on a cantilever bridge across 
Cedar Brook. The brook was entirely unsuited to such a 



The Cantilever Bridge. 309 

structure, because the banks were very low ; but he made the 
towers quite short and built an inclined roadway leading up 
to the top of them. The legs of the towers were driven 
firmly into the bank, making them so solid that he thought 
it would be perfectly safe to build the frames out over the 
brook without building them at the same time on the shore 
side. But he had made a miscalculation, for when a couple 
of the boys had crawled out on the B and C frames to set up 
an E frame the structure commenced to sag. The trouble 
was remedied by propping up the tower with a stout stick 
driven into the river bottom and wedged under the upper 
tie piece of the tower. The towers were really too short to 
make a well proportioned bridge, for the panels had to be 
made very long and narrow, so as to reach across. But on 
the whole it was a very creditable structure when completed, 
though it had only half as long a span as our cantilever bridge 
over the lagoon. 



INDEX 



"A" tent, 207 

Abbreviations, wigwag, 146 
Accident, railway, the first, 290 
Ainu snow shoe, 41 
Alarm clock, a unique, 63 
Alphabet, wigwag, 145 
Alpine stock, 198 
Anchoring cantilever bridge, 303 
Annex, the, 50 
Arctic expedition, 193 
Armchair, barrel, 227 
Axles of railroad car, 285 



Bags, sleeping, 203 

Banquets, midnight, 179 

Barrel armchair, 227 

Barrel filter, 68 

Barrel hoop snow shoe, 36 

Barrel stave hammock, 226 

Barrel stave snow shoe, 36 

Bat's wings, 33 

Bed, a camp, 209 

Bed in shower, 210 

Belly band, elastic, 235 

Bending wood, 39 

Bicycle wheels, mounting frame 

on, 219 
Big Bug Club, 177 
"Bill," 17 
Bill's cave, 224 
Bill's skate sail, 21 
Binding cantilever bridge, 303 
Blades of wind wheel, 278 
Boat, ice, 159 



Boat mooring, tramp-proof, 142 
Boat, scow, 59 
Box kite, diamond, 236 
Box, the black walnut, 19 
Brake for wind wheel, 278 
Bridge building, 95 
Bridge, cantilever, 292 
Bridge, king post, 105 
Bridge, king rod, 102 
Bridge, pontoon, loi 
Bridge, Reddy's cantilever, 308 
Bridge, spar, 95 
Bridge, stiffening, 104 
Bridge, suspension, 99 
Bridge wreck, 66 
Bucket, the canvas, 251 
Buckets for water wheel, 246 
Bunks, 270 



Camp bed, 209 

Camp bed in shower, 210 

Camp, breaking, 158 

Camp chair, a, 208 

Camp fire, a costly, 200 

Camp fire, kindling, 194 

Canoe, Indian paddling, 121 

Canoe lee boards, 119 

Canoe rudder, 115 

Canoe, the sailing, iii 

Canoe sails, 117 

Canoe, scooter, 190 

Canoe, stretching on canvas, 114 

Canoes, canvas, 109 

Cantilever bridge, 292 

Cantilever bridge, anchoring, 303 



311 



312 



Index. 



Cantilever bridge, binding frames, 

303 
Cantilever bridge, center panels, 304 
Cantilever bridge, frames for, 293 
Cantilever bridge, Reddy's, 308 
Cantilever bridge, setting up frames 

of, 300 
Cantilever bridge towers, 299 
Canvas bucket, 251 
Canvas canoes, 109 
Canvas, stretching on canoe, 114 
Canvas tent, 46 
Car axles, 285 
Car for gravity railroad, 284 
Car, mounting wheels on, 286 
Carpenter's miter box, 288 
Cave, Bill's, 224 
Cave, covering the, 177 
Cave, excavating for, 173 
Cave, framing, 174 
Cave-in, a, 171 
Center panels of cantilever bridge, 

304 
Chain, surveyor's, yy 
Chair, a camp, 208 
Chair seat snow shoe, 35 
Cheek blocks, 162 

Chinks in log cabin, stopping up, 272 
Christmas vacation, 19 
Clamp for crank shaft, 276 
Clapboards, nailing on, 135 
Cleat, a, 163 

Climbing, mountain, 198 
Clock, a unique alarm, 63 
Club, the Big Bug, 177 
Club pin, 180 
Club, the Subterranean, 171 
Code, International Telegraph, 155 
Combination lock, 181 
Council of war, 139 
Crank shaft, the, 276 
Creepers, ice, 170 
Crossbow, 55 
Crossbow trigger, 57 



Cutting out disk, 78 

D 

Danish sail, 30 

Derrick, the, 131 

Diamond box kite, 236 

Digging the well, 274 

Disk, cutting out, 78 

Disk, sighting, 79 

Dispossessed, 306 

Diving tree, 84 

Door hinges, 269 

Door latch, 269 

Doors, sliding, 136 

Double mirror heliograph, 156 

Double surprise, 140 

Drill, fire, 69 

Drowned, how to restore, alone, 92 

Drowned, restoring the, 89 

E 

Easter vacation, 224 
Elastic belly band, 235 
Expedition, Arctic, 193 
Expedition, logging, 255 
Expedition, preparing for, 53 
Exploration, preliminary, 66 



Farewell to Willow Clump Island, 

307 
Fastener, brass, 58 
Filter, the barrel, 68 
Filter barrel, cooling the, 250 
Filter, the small, 67 
Fire drill, 69 

Fireplace of log cabin, 265 
Fireplace, outdoor, 195 
Fireplace, stone-paved, 196 
Fissure, path up the, 129 
Flanged wheels, 285 
Fly, ridge pole, 54 
Fly for tent, 54 
Fly, umbrella with, 211 



Index. 



313 



Focusing heliograph instrument, 153 
Frame on bicycle wheels, 219 
Frames for cantilever bridge, 293 
Frames of cantilever bridge, setting 

up, 300 
Friend in time of trouble, 201 

G 

Goblins' Dancing Platform, 126 
Grass hut, 124 
Gravity railroad, 283 

H 

Halliday, Jim, 194 
Hammock, barrel stave, 226 
Harness, pack, 212 
Heliograph, the, 147 
Heliograph, double mirror, 156 
Heliograph instrument, focusing, 153 
Heliograph screen, 151 
Heliograph sight rod, 150 
Heliograph signaling, 154 
Heliograph, single mirror, 148 
Hinge for spars, 30 
Hinges, door, 269 
House building, 124 
House, log, 254 
House, the tree, 132 
Hut, cold night in, 197 
Hut, log, 254 
Hut, straw, 124 



Ice boat, the, 159 

Ice boats, sledges and toboggans, 

158 
Ice, craft strikes the, 184 
Ice creepers, 170 
Indian paddling canoe, 121 
Instrument, double mirror, 156 
Instrument, cingle mirror, 148 
Instrument, surveying, 73 
International Telegraph Code, 155 



Iroquois snow shoe, 39 
Island, mapping the, 82 
Island, off to the, 63 
Island, trip to the, 64 



Jacob's Ladder, 129 
Jaws of boom, 162 
Jib-sail for ice boat, 164 
Jib-sail for scooter scow, 187 
Jim Halliday, 194 

K 

King post bridge, 105 
King rod truss, 102 
Kite, diamond box, 236 
Kite Island, 83 
Kite, Malay, 5-foot, 231 
Kite, Malay, 8-foot, 233 
Kites, putting to work, 235 
Kites, tailless, 229 
Klepalo, the, 70 



Ladder, the Jacob's, 129 
Ladders, rope, 130 
Lagoon, the, 83 
Lake Placid, 83 . 
Land yacht, 215 
Land yacht, a sail on, 222 
Lanteen sail for canoe, 117 
Lanteen skate sail, 29 
Latch, door, 269 
Latch string, 270 
Lee boards, canoe, 119 
" Leg-of-mutton " sail, 220 
Levels, spirit, 74 
Lock combination, 181 
Log cabin, 25 \ 
Log cabin, building the, 259 
Log cabin door hinges, 269 
Log cabin door latch, 269 
Log cabin door and window frames, 
263 



3H 



Index. 



Log cabin fireplace, 265 

Log cabin, floor of, 267 

Log cabin, foundation of, 254 

Log cabin, roof of, 262 

Log cabin, stopping up chinks, 272 

Log cabin window sash, 270 

Log raft, 256 

Logging expedition, 255 

M 

Mainsail for canoe, 117 

Mainsail for ice boat, 162 

Malay kite, 5-foot, 231 

Malay kite, 8-foot, 233 

Mapping the island, 82 

Mast of land yacht, stepping, 218 

Mast step, ice boat, 161 

Mast step, leather, 30 

Mast step, wooden, 30 

Megaphone, 57 

Megaphone mouthpiece, 58 

Midnight banquets, 179 

Mill-race, the, 88 

Mirror instrument, heliograph, 148 

Miter box, carpenter's, 288 

Mizzen sail of canoe, 118 

Mooring, tramp-proof boat, 142 

Mountain climbing, 198 

Mouthpiece of megaphone, 58 

" Mummy case,"' 204 

N 

Needle, weaving, 39 
Night, cold, in the hut, 197 
Nightmare, a, 211 
Noria, 241 
Norwegian ski, 42 
Numerals, wigwag, 145 



Oar, the, 61 

Oflf to the island, 63 

Organizing the society, 25 



Outdoor fireplace, 195 
Outfits, tramping, 203 



Pack harness, 212 
Paddling canoe, Indian, 121 
Paddles for water wheel, 246 
Panels, center, of cantilever bridge, 

304 
Path up the fissure, 129 
Patient, how to work over, alone, 93 
Pin, the club, 180 
Plank, swimming on, 86 
Platform, Goblins' Dancing, 126 
Point Lookout, 83 
Pole, ridge, 48 
Poncho, 210 
Pontoon bridge, loi 
Poor shelter, a, 199 
Preparing for the expedition, 53 
Protractor, the, 76 
Provisions and supplies, 54 
Pump, the, 279 
Pump, action of, 281 
Pump valves, the, 280 



Raft, log, 256 

Raft, sail-rigged, 258 

Railroad car, 284 

Railroad car axles, 285 

Railroad flanged wheels, 285 

Railroad, gravity, 283 

Railway track, the, 287 

Railway accident, the first, 290 

Railway, rope, 97 

Railway spikes, 50 

Rapids, shooting the, 88 

Receiving trough for water wheel, 

247 
Records of the S. S. L E. E. of 

W. C. L, 19 
Reddy's cantilever bridge, 308 



Index. 



315 



Rennwolf, the, 168 
Restoring the drowned, 89 
Ridge pole, 48 
Ridge pole, fly, 54 
Riveting, 213 

Rod, heliograph sight, 150 
Rod, surveyor's, 78 
Rope ladders, 130 
Rope railway, 97 
Rowlocks, sockets for, 60 
Rudder, canoe, 115 
Rudder shoe, ice boat, 160 
Runner shoe, ice boat, 160 
Runners of scooter canoe, 190 
Runners of sledge, 165 
Rustic table, 66 



S. S. I. E. E. of W. C. I., records 

of, 19 
Sail, jib, for scooter, 187 
Sail, " leg-of-mutton," 220 
Sail, mizzen, of canoe, 118 
Sail-rigged raft, 258 
Sail, sprit, for scooter, 186 
Sail stitch, 46 

Sail through the country, 222 
Sailing canoe, the, iil 
Sailor's stitch, 221 
Sails, canoe, 117 
Sails for ice boat, 162 
Sandwiches, straw, 227 
Schreiner, a visit from Mr., no 
Scooter canoe, 190 
Scooter sailing, 188 
Scooter scow, 185 
Scooters, 183 
Scow, the, 59 
Scow, a sail in, 184 
Scow, scooter, 185 
Scow, stolen, 138 
Screen, heliograph, 151 
Seat, swing, 97 



Shaft, the crank, 276 

Shelter, a poor, 199 

Shooting the rapids, 88 

Sight rod, 150 

Sighting blocks, 74 

Sighting disk, 79 

Signaling, heliograph, 154 

Signals, wigwag, 144 

Simple method of surveying, 79 

Single mirror heliograph, 148 

Sioux snow shoe, 37 

Skate sail, bat's wings, 33 

Skate sail. Bill's, 21 

Skate sail, Danish, 30 

Skate sail, double Swedish, 26 

Skate sail, lanteen, 29 

Skate sail, single Swedish, 28 

Skate sails, 26 

Ski, Norwegian, 42 

Ski sticks, 43 

Skids, 262 

Slabs, loi 

Sledge, the, 165 

Sleeping bags, 203 

Sliding doors, 136 

Snotter, 187 

Snow shoe, Ainu, 41 

Snow shoe, barrel hoop, 36 

Snow shoe, barrel stave, 36 

Snow shoe, chair seat, 35 

Snow shoe, Iroquois, 39 

Snow shoe, Sioux, 37 

Snow shoe, Swiss, 43 

Snow shoes, 35 

Society, meeting of, 189 

Society, organizing the, 25 

Spar bridge, 95 

Spars, hinge for, 30 

Spikes, railway, 50 

Spiral spring, 153 

Spirit levels, 74 

Spring, spiral, 153 

Sprit sail, 186 

Stepping mast of land yacht, 218 



3i6 



Index. 



Stitch, the sail, 46 

Stitch, sailor's, 221 

Stick, ski, 43 

Stiffening the bridge, 104 

Stone-paved fireplace, 196 

Stone wall, how to build, 266 

Straw hut, 124 

Straw sandwiches, 227 

Subterranean Club, 171 

Summer toboggan, 229 

Supplies and provisions, 54 

Surprise, a double, 140 

Surveying, 73 

Surveying, first lesson in, 79 

Surveying instrument, 73 

Surveying, a simple method of, 79 

Surveying for water wheel, 241 

Surveyor's chain, 77 

Surveyor's rod, 78 

Suspension bridge, 99 

Swamp shoe, 43 

Swedish sail, double, 26 

Swedish sail, single, 28 

Swimming, 84 

Swimming on a plank, 86 

Swing seat, 97 

Swiss snow shoe, 43 



Table, a rustic, 66 

Tailless kites, 229 

Telegraph Code, International, 155 

Tent, the "A", 207 

Tent, annex, 50 

Tent, canvas wall, 46 

Tent fly, 54 

Tent making, 44 

Testing the track, 291 

Thole pins, 61 

Tie block, wood, 49 

Tie, wire, 50 

Tiger's Tail, 83 

Tiller, ice boat, 161 

Tiller of land yacht, 219 



Toboggan, the, 167 
Toboggan, the summer, 229 
Tower, the windmill, 275 
Towers of the cantilever bridge, 299 
Towers for water wheel, 243 
Towers of water wheel, setting up, 

248 
Track, laying the, 289 
Track, the railway, 287 
Track, testing the, 291 
Tramping outfits, 203 
Tramp-proof boat mooring, 142 
Tramps, trouble with, 138 
Tree, diving, 84 
Tree house, the, 132 
Trigger for crossbow, 57 
Trip to the island, 64 
Tripod, the, 75 
Trouble with tramps, 138 
Trunk, the old, 18 
Truss, king rod, 102 
Turnbuckle, a simple, 216 

u 

Umbrella with fly, 211 
Umbrella rib crossbow, 55 
Uncle Ed, word from, 45 
Uncle Ed's departure, 109 



Vacation, Christmas, 19 

Vacation, Easter, 224 

Valves, the pump, 280 

Van Syckel, interview with, i8g 

Vengeance, 139 

Visit from Mr. Schreiner, no 

w 

Wall, how to build, 266 
Wall tent, 46 
Water wheel, 241 
Water wheel buckets, 246 



Index. 



317 



Water wheel, construction of, 245 

Water wheel, Mr. Halliday's, 252 

Water wheel, mountmg the, 249 

Water wheel paddles, 246 

Water wheel receiving trough, 247 

Water wheel, surveying for, 241 

Water wheel, towers for, 243 

Water wheel towers, setting up, 248 

War, council of, 139 

Weaving needle, 39 

Well, digging the, 274 

Wheel, the wind, 276 

Wheels for gravity railroad, 285 

Wheels, mounting, on car, 286 

Wheels, mounting frame on, 219 

Wigwag abbreviations, 146 

Wigwag alphabet, 145 

Wigwag numerals, 145 

Wigwag signals, 144 

Wigwagging and heliographing, 144 

Wigwagging at night, 147 



Willow Clump Island, 23 

Willow Clump Island, farewell to, 

307 
Willow Clump Island in winter, 194 
Wind wheel, 276 
Wind wheel blades, 278 
Wind wheel brake, 278 
Windmill, 273 
Windmill tower, 275 
Window hinge, 270 
Window sash, log cabin, 270 
Wings, bat's, 33 
Wire tie, 50 
Wood, bending, 39 
Wood tie block, 49 
Word from Uncle Ed, 45 



Yacht, land, 215 

Yacht, land, frame of, 216 



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